


Move On Up

by tntfriday13



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Heartbreak, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Songs, Soulmates, Stubborn Trolls, When you hear a song and you know it's from your soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tntfriday13/pseuds/tntfriday13
Summary: Set in an AU where Trolls locate their soulmates by song.Creek heard his soulmate's song, but could never find them. He assumes that the Bergen chef took his soulmate, and now heartbroken, he refuses to sing with the other trolls...Incidentally, Branch refuses to sing as well.(Title is taken from Curtis Mayfield's song "Move On Up.")





	1. Total Eclipse of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a bit of an experiment for me. I would like for every chapter to have a song to go along with it, so this could either be a really fun or really annoying experience. I recommend that you give the songs suggested a go because you never know when you might like something! :)
> 
> Chapter Song: Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse of the Heart

It all started with a song…

_Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit lonely_  
_And you’re never coming ‘round_

Creek perked his ears to the faint sound of singing, his heart leaping in his chest at the angelic voice.

 _Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit tired_  
_Of listening to the sound of my tears_

The young purple troll frantically looked around himself to locate the source of the voice. Even though the troll tree was always filled with music, this voice called to him like no other before.

 _Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit nervous_  
_That the best of all the years have gone by_

It was his soulmate. 

_Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit terrified_  
_And then I see the look in your eyes_

Creek started running, ignoring the calls of his parents as he did. He ran as fast as he could toward the sound of the singing. 

_Turnaround bright eyes, but every now and then I fall apart!_

He raced past friends, family, and everything he knew to be familiar. Due to the threat of being taken by the Bergens, Creek had never been allowed to venture far away from the center of the tree. His surroundings became unfamiliar to him, but even still, he trudged on. 

He had to get to them.

_Turnaround bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart!_

He was getting closer! The sound was slowly becoming louder, and Creek continued to run despite the fact that his legs were aching. A grin of sheer happiness lit up his face despite his fast-breathing. He was going to meet his soulmate, they were going to be best friends, and then they would get married and live the rest of their lives happily ever after. It was everything that Creek had ever wanted, and he couldn’t wait to meet the person who sung his heart song.

_And I need you now tonight_  
_And I need you more than ever_  
_And if you only hold me tight_  
_We’ll be holding on forever!_  
_And we’ll only be making it—_

Creek stopped and looked around frantically for the source of the sound. 

But he hadn’t gotten close enough.

He opened his mouth to call to his soulmate when suddenly a loud thundering sound made him shut his mouth. He could see a dark shadow coming toward him, and he ducked behind some leaves to shield himself from view.

He could see **her**.

A Bergen.

She was the one that his mother and father had warned him about – the one who came to snatch Trolls out of the Troll Tree to be eaten. Creek could see the horrible grin on the Bergen's face as she walked past him, but something else caught the small troll's attention as well. The Bergen's hand was clenched around something. 

Creek watched the Bergen march her way back to the Troll Tree gates, and close the metal doors behind her with a loud _**clang.**_

And then everything was quiet. 

Creek sat in paralyzing fear for a while after – his ears struggled to hear any song - any _noise_ \- that would tell him something useful.

But there was nothing.

He felt his heart shatter into a million pieces as he sat on the foreign branch alone. 

He had lost his soulmate.


	2. Clumsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A minor edit was made to this chapter as of today (9/2/17). I was using the name Yogi instead of Cybil for some reason. More information about this particular character will be given in the next chapter! XD
> 
> Chapter song: Fergie - Clumsy

Trolls have a long history of soulmate songs and rituals.

When one finds their soulmate, no force on Earth can match the joy that lights up their very being. When they sing to each other and they feel their heart leap in their chest - It’s a heavy feeling that tells them that they are wanted and loved like nothing else, and in that moment, they know: 

They were meant to be together. 

Trolls have either found their soulmate and bonded, or never heard their heart song and moved on. 

A soulmate was not a vital thing, just something to be cherished in one’s life.

But no Troll had ever heard their heart song without meeting their soulmate afterward. 

Creek was the first. 

When the purple troll finally managed to find his way back home, he cried into his parents’ arms as they held him close. And, for a time, Creek found himself cutting ties with his family and friends – not accepting any visitors, not participating in hugs or dances, and refusing to sing even the shortest of songs. 

It was a troubling time for the young Troll, but luckily for Creek, the support of his friends and family managed to lift him back to a better place. He sought spiritual guidance from Master Cybil – who, for many years thereafter, helped him to calm his troubled auras, and Creek began to join in on parties once more. 

Everyone thought that young Creek was going to be okay despite losing his soulmate at such an early age.

He escaped from the Troll Tree with his parents, helped build their new home, grew up, and moved on.

Or so everyone thought.

As time went on, Creek felt a twinge of bitterness well up inside him. It grew with each passing day until he could see flaws in everything before him. Poppy, the young princess, was beautiful and cheerful. But to Creek, she was also _annoyingly_ cheerful and a bit _too_ engaged with him. 

He had first met the princess in school. 

Trolls were taught at an early age what hug time was, how to sing and dance, and how to find the best _acoustics_ for your singing and dancing. Oh, and scrapbooking was also a subject that was heavily focused on. 

Creek was nice enough to the young pink Troll – offering her glitter for her scrapbooks and such, and everything appeared perfectly normal with every interaction the purple Troll had. 

Except that Creek was beginning to show some very concerning traits for a troll his age. 

Trolls were never known to bully others – they were taught at an early age that they should always reflect positivity and happiness to those around them, and so there were no fights among trolls, no quarrels, and no shenanigans.

Except when it came to Creek.

No one noticed, of course, because Creek knew that if anyone were to find out what he was doing, then he would be considered an outcast... And Creek felt _that_ role was more suited to someone else. 

A Troll named Branch, for instance.

The grey Troll had started troll school around the same time as Creek and immediately the other had caught his interest. Creek had never heard of a _grey_ troll before. It was so strange, so odd—

So freakish.

And that’s what Creek called him.

In whispers, of course. Creek would call Branch all sort of names throughout their days in troll school. He would pick on Branch, mess up his artwork, trip him, flick glitter balls in his direction, pull his hair, the only thing Creek didn’t have to ruin for Branch was the other troll’s singing and dancing. Branch flunked everything having to do with either of those subjects for the only reason that he refused to try. 

What kind of troll didn’t want to sing and dance?

Well, to be fair, Creek was more into the dancing than the singing anyway. He would never sing in front of the rest of the class – he said that it went against his religion but the truth was that he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. If his soulmate could never hear him sing, then his songs were pointless anyway. And why should he waste his heart songs on Trolls who were so painfully inferior to his soulmate? 

But Creek faked his way through school and social events. He never really sung anything, but he grew to become a masterful lip-syncer. He acted normal, made friends, lost his parents, got a place of his own in the center of their new village, and continued to harass Branch even as 20 years passed. 

As a matter of fact, he was on his way to the grey troll’s underground bunker right now.

“Creek!”

Creek’s smile dimmed as he heard his name being called. He stopped walking and turned to address the princess as she happily skipped toward him.

“Why, hello there, Poppy,” He casually stated. 

The pink princess smiled at him with an affection in her eyes that made Creek a bit uneasy. Poppy had never heard her heart song, so Creek was fairly certain that she held some sort of affection for him.

Useful, but unwanted. 

“Hey Creek!” Poppy greeted. 

Creek watched in amusement as she pulled something out of one of her dress pockets and held it out for him. The pink princess chuckled, “You kinda missed my big song-and-dance number earlier, so I’m glad we ran into each other out here! Are you ready for the party tonight?”

Creek looked down at the card that Poppy had handed him. It was simple and colorful on the outside, but he knew exactly what awaited him should he actually open the card. The purple Troll carefully put invitation to his side as he reached out to give the other troll a hug – easily distracting the pink princess from noticing that he hadn’t actually opened the darn thing.

“Of course, Poppy!” Creek cheerfully stated. “I’ve been looking forward to it for quite some time. It _is_ your inauguration after all.”

Poppy blushed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Are you nervous?”

“What? Psh, no,” She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s only going to be the biggest party we’ve ever seen! How could I possibly be nervous with all my friends and family watching me?”

Creek smiled knowingly and patted her back.

“Anyway,” Poppy changed the subject. “I was actually on my way to give a card to Branch. Is… that where you’re going too?”

The only reason she asked was because Branch lived a decent distance away from the rest of the village. It would only make sense for Creek to be out this far if he were going to visit the grey Troll too.

Crap.

He smiled anyway, “Why, _yes_. That is exactly where I was headed.”

“Really? I didn’t think that you and Branch were friends.”

“Oh, Poppy.” Creek shook his head and brought his hands in front of him, “All living creatures in this universe are connected by bonds intangible to the naked eye. If we see with our hearts, then we know that we are all friends.” He _‘booped’_ Poppy on the nose for good measure, “Our auras give us away to others wanting to learn more about us.”

“You are so wise,” the pink Troll said in wonder before perking back to her usual chipper self, “Well, we can go visit him together then!”

_Great._

Poppy strolled up to a large rock that lied just behind the Go Away mat of Branch's home. For some odd reason, the pink Troll began to frantically knock on the rock.

Creek quirked a brow, “What are you doing?” 

“Uh…Trying to call Branch to come out here?”

Creek chuckled a bit at the other Troll’s ignorance before he kicked away the welcome mat – revealing an iron door. 

Poppy stared, a blush forming on her rosy cheeks, “Oh,” she said dumbly before Creek began to politely tap on the iron door. 

They could hear movement from inside almost immediately. The noises were loudly echoed by the iron door, so Creek could plainly hear the strings of curses and irritated grunts from inside. He would have smiled if Poppy hadn’t broken the pleasant silence between them in that moment.

“You must come here a lot,” Poppy casually stated as they waited for the grey Troll to make an appearance.

Creek internally rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like he came here every day or anything… or maybe he did. He never kept track of his visits. Creek gained a certain pleasure from being around the grey Troll so it never seemed like much of a chore to visit him – whether that was from the pleasant quiet walk to the outskirts of a song-fanatical society or from the new and exciting taunts he threw at Branch, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he didn't like this line of questioning.

Creek chanced a glance at the princess’ face to see that her usually happy expression now held a slight mixture of confusion and disappointment. An odd combination to see on such a bright and cheerful person.

And not a good sign for a future queen.

Creek nudged her playfully as he managed to dodge the princess’ question, “So you’re giving Branch an invitation too?”

That lightened the mood. Poppy almost instantly lost the two negative emotions on her face, “Yeah! It’s going to be a sweet party so of course everyone’s invited!”

“That’s so nice of you, Poppy. Just don’t be surprised if he doesn’t—“

In that moment, the iron door to Branch’s house opened and the two other Trolls were now looking at the grey Troll himself as he seemingly rose from the depths of his home.

“Look Creek, I’m not in the mood for you today so why don’t you just…” Branch drawled off as he actually looked up from the podium he stood on. He gave Creek the usual annoyed glare, but his expression softened when he saw the princess. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked. 

The disappointed look again appeared on the princess’ face, but she maintained her smile as she held out Branch’s invitation. 

Much to Creek’s delight, Branch actually opened the thing and got a face-full of glitter. 

“So?” Poppy reached with an excited lean, “Are you coming? It’s going to be the biggest party we’ve ever had! Everyone’s going to be there.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Branch scoffed. “Everyone _including_ the Bergens.”

Poppy let out an irritated sigh, “Ugh! Come on, Branch. You always say that at _every_ party. It’s been over _20_ years! I don’t think any Bergens are going to be looking for us after all this time.”

“Maybe,” Branch stated casually as he crossed his arms. “But maybe they just haven’t – by some miracle – seen or heard any of your parties yet. You said this one is going to be the biggest party ever thrown? Well that sounds like an invitation for the Bergens to finally find out where we live to me.”

Creek had to intervene. He casually walked up to Branch and put his arm around the other troll, smiling as he felt Branch stiffen under his arm and against his side as he pulled the other closer. 

“Branch,” Creek tsked, “This is an opportunity for everyone to come together to celebrate our freedom and the rise of our new queen.” Creek squeezed the grey Troll’s shoulder for emphasis, “It would be a disservice if we did not celebrate in a way fitting of such an occasion.”

Branch shrugged Creek off, giving him his trademarked scowl as he did so, “By alerting the Bergens to our village? Yeah, great way to celebrate.”

Poppy’s shoulders slumped as she watched the grey Troll walk back over to his iron door entrance, “So you’re not going to come to the party?” She asked as Branch began to descend once more into the depths of his home.

Branch crossed his arms, “Oh, I’ll be there alright. But I’m not going to have fun; I’ll be there to make sure everyone gets out safely when the Bergens show up and start grabbing trolls!” Before the tuff of his grey hair vanished from sight, Branch’s voice echoed a final warning, “You’re going to see one day that being queen means more than just making sure everyone is having fun.”

And as the iron door to Branch’s home closed once more, Poppy and Creek were left alone. The pink Troll’s smile was gone by now as she stared at the door in a sort of contemplation that Creek knew was going to affect the rest of the day if it wasn’t cut short. 

“Don’t worry about him,” the purple Troll playfully stated. “Some people just don’t _want_ to be happy – even when there is something to be _really_ happy about.”

At his words, Poppy’s smile returned somewhat and she gave him a shy look, “I guess you’re right.”

“You would guess right! Now, let’s get you to the fashion twins so that they can show you all the outfits they’ve made you for the party. You know they’ve been bragging about them to the rest of the village, and I’m sure they’ll blow you away!”


	3. So Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember that Troll named Cybil who was mentioned in the last chapter? Well, she's actually a deleted character from the movie Trolls. There's some pretty good images of her floating around on the internet if you're interesting in seeing how she was designed! :)
> 
> Chapter song: "So Sick" by Ne-Yo
> 
>  
> 
> _And I'm so sick of love songs, so tired of tears_  
>  _So done with wishing you were still here_

It didn’t take much to sneak away once Poppy and he made it to the fashion twins’ home. Almost immediately, the pink princess was snatched away, and Creek was left standing at the entry of the pod. He could see all colors of the rainbow practically come falling from the ceiling of the pod and down onto the princess, leaving her buried in a pile of dresses and accessories. It seemed like the appropriate time to leave, so Creek quietly helped himself back outside of the pod before anyone took notice. 

The purple troll smiled to others as he passed them, but his mind was fixated on how his day had been interrupted. What he really wanted to do was go back to visit Branch - _properly_ like he had wanted to in the first place. He wasn’t sure what he would say to the grey Troll if he were to visit him again though, but the urge was there and it was driving him crazy. Wouldn’t it be strange for him to go back? What if he were to run into another Troll near Branch’s home? There would be rumors, Trolls would talk behind his back about his motives, and it would be no time at all before they would find out about Creek’s unusually antagonistic behavior. 

Poppy just had to ruin things.

Creek took a lot of enjoyment from his times with Branch, and the pink princess just had to poke her nose into his business.

It was as if she just couldn’t stand to not be the center of attention for once in her perfect life. 

Tomorrow was going to be the _biggest_ party ever just for **_her_** and she couldn’t just have that, could she?

_**She was so—!** _

Creek stopped his train of thought and took a deep breath.

His aura was becoming bitter again. 

Almost immediately after that thought occurred to him, Creek changed the direction of his walk. He knew that there was only one Troll he could turn to during these times wherein his mind became a bit too cynical for his liking. 

Finding his way to the other Troll’s home, the purple Troll stepped inside and called out to the pod’s sole resident.

“Hello? Master Cybil?”

The air was heavy as the purple Troll stood at the entry way of the home. His nose picked up the usual scent of incense, and his eyes closed when he slowly breathed in the calming aroma.

“Come in, Creek,” a gentle voice spoke from within the pod.

Creek smiled at the female voice and walked farther inside. When he finally found Cybil, she sat on one of many pillows within the room, her legs folded, fingers brought together, eyes closed, and a calm, peaceful smile to her green face. 

“Hello Creek,” Master Cybil greeted as she gestured to the pillow next to her. “Why don’t you join me?”

Creek nodded despite the fact that he knew his master couldn’t actually see the gesture. Taking the same pose as Cybil, Creek waited for further instruction.

“Envision the place where you are the most happy and yourself. The center of your universe.”

It was the usual orders his master would give every time he visited her after becoming upset. He had learned how to access this so-called “center of his universe” many years ago, but he always found it was easier to do with the green Troll by his side. Her soothing voice and calming presence made it simpler for his mind to reach the place he most wanted to be. 

He breathed deeply and let his body relax. 

The calm darkness his closed eyes provided slowly became a world of light. And with each shade lighter his world became, Creek could hear his soulmate singing to him at a volume equal to the brightness. The soft melody fluttered gently through the air he envisioned. In the first few moments of slightly brightening light, his soulmate’s voice was exactly how he had heard it the first time when he was just a child. But as the light became his world – ebbing away the last of the darkness, his soulmate’s voice transformed into one he would’ve expected his soulmate would have today.

It was as angelic as ever. 

Creek could see a blurry image before him. It held out its hands to Creek as he watched it in quiet fascination. He knew that the angelic voice was coming from the image, and Creek felt a peace fulfill his soul as he felt as though he could finally, at long last, sing to his soulmate the heartsong he had kept to himself all this time. 

The purple Troll imagined that his soulmate would feel the same joy he himself had felt alone in that foreign part of the Troll Tree. He could imagine a smile, a laugh, and a hand in his own, but he could never hold onto the image outside of meditation. 

This place was everything he had ever wanted.

And suddenly he was startled out of this mind space when a finger gently touched his cheek. His breathing rapid and eyes wide at the interruption, Creek saw that it was just his master. His cheeks were wet, and he sniffled in embarrassment. 

“I always hate going there,” he half-heartedly joked as he wiped the rest of the wetness from his face. 

“Your aura was unusual today,” Master Cybil softly stated. 

“Was it?” Creek almost cheekily asked. “I really hadn’t noticed.”

“Did something different happen today?”

Creek couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped him at the question, “My plans were ruined a bit.”

“Oh? That might explain things,” Cybil calmly concluded. “I know you have a habit of doing a particular activity – of which you refuse to tell me more about – so disturbance of this activity would explain the difference.”

Creek let the silence hang between them for a bit, not really knowing what more he could add to the conversation and just letting his master’s words sink in a bit. Was he really so used to following such a set schedule?

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his own.

“Creek,” Cybil spoke kindly. Her eyes looked sincerely into his own, almost pleadingly. “I wish you would open up to me.”

Before Creek could respond, a childish voice filled the room, “Master Cybil!” it called.

The green Troll gave Creek a bit of a smile before responding to the voice in a tone that was just as loud but not nearly as obnoxious, “Yes, Windy?”

Creek could hear the pitter-patter of a child’s footsteps moving rapidly closer to them. He couldn’t help but smile when said child dramatically jumped into the room – arms and legs spread wide in a show of theatrical glee as she once more exclaimed, “Master Cybil!” 

The young Troll’s confidence diminished almost entirely when her wide eyes happened upon the still form of Creek. She blushed a dark orange, just a shade darker than rest of her, and closed in on herself in embarrassment. 

_Poor thing_ , Creek mused. 

“Um, sorry about that,” she shyly stated as she now stood uncomfortably before the two adult Trolls. “Did I interrupt anything?” 

Creek smiled, “Not at all. I don’t mind sharing my time with the master.”

Windy perked up at that and plopped down on the pillow next to Creek. Her blush was still there as she shyly sat beside him, “Thank you”

“So how can we help you?” Master Cybil asked.

Windy fiddled with the hem of her green dress, “I… um. I wanted some advice about… um… heart songs, I guess?”

The question made Creek internally flinch, but he kept the smile on his face all the same. 

Master Cybil glanced at the purple troll next to her, “I believe my apprentice and I can help you with that particular topic, is there something specific you wanted to know?”

The young Troll's face became a bit flustered, “I… well. I know that Princess Poppy is having a party tonight for her coronation, and there’s going to be _a lot_ of Trolls there.” The little Troll emphasized how huge this event was going to be by throwing her arms in the air. Truly every Troll in Troll Village knew about the party by now, and _every_ Troll was going to be there. There was very little doubt about that. Windy took a deep breath before she continued, “I haven’t heard mine yet, and I’m really nervous about tonight.”

Ah, yes. Singing. Although Creek had never been to a coronation before, he had been taught in school that whenever a new Troll is crowned king or queen, the rest gather around them and sing a song. It was supposed to represent togetherness, and how the ruler is still a part of the group despite their new status. 

Creek quirked a brow, “Why would that make you nervous about the party?”

Windy gave him a blank look, “Well duh, my soulmate is going to be there! What if I can’t hear their song over everyone else’s? Or what if they’re that really mean kid from school that pulls on my pigtails! I would hate that!”

It was spoken with such condescension that Creek couldn’t resist the mean remark that slipped past his lips in that instance. “What if your soulmate isn’t there at all?” 

Master Cybil shot Creek a look, but it was the young Troll’s face that him instantly regret his words.

It was as if someone flipped a switch. At just that single remark, Windy's face fell to a look of almost utter despair, and her voice only came out as a heartbroken whisper, “Y-you really think they won’t be there?” 

Ouch. He made a big mistake. 

Creek purposely refused to look at his master to see her reaction, and simply sighed in defeat at both the girl and himself. He offered the young child a small smile, “Of course your soulmate will be there. Why wouldn’t they be?”

There were plenty of reasons why, but Creek knew that this young Troll wouldn't be aware of any of them yet. Any why should he take that from her?

The girl sniffled in response, “I don’t know…” And she truly sounded as though she had absolutely no idea why her soulmate wouldn’t be at that party. 

What an innocent child. 

Creek gave her a gentle nudge, “See? I was just having a bit of fun. Your soulmate is bound to be at that party tonight. Everyone is going, after all.”

“Yes,” Master Cybil serenely chimed in. “And it may be that kid from school.”

Windy's hands instantly reached for her pigtails, “What!? No way!"

“Yes way!” Cybil happily exclaimed. “Love makes people do really strange things, after all!”

“But- but we haven't even had any singing classes together or anything! He wouldn't know that I'm his soulmate!”

Cybil nodded, “Ah, he doesn't have to know anything. Love has a way of revealing itself even without a heartsong to open the door.”

The little Troll looked as if she was about to have a heart attack at that startling revelation. On wobbly knees, Windy gave Cybil and Creek a bow, “Um… thank you for your time. I’m… I’m gonna go now and think about... things”

Creek stifled his chuckles as Windy left the pod, “Poor Windy! Imagine putting the idea in her head that her school bully would be her soulmate. Oh, you are a devious one, Cybil.”

Cybil hummed, “It’s a very real possibility, Creek.”

“Oh, come on,” Creek chided. “Who would pick on someone they have feelings for?”

“Trolls who feel as though that is the best outlet for their emotions," the green Troll concluded. "It’s not the best outlet, of course, but it’s one that they chose to express themselves.”

Creek huffed in response, ready to get up to leave when Cybil grabbed his arm.

“Why don’t you try your meditation again? It will put you in a better mind space for the party this evening.”

Creek closed his eyes for a moment, and reached his hand to gently remove Cybil's from his arm. He gave the green Troll a strained smile, "I think I'll be alright. After all, it's just another party. I've been through enough of them."

He gave his master a last wave in goodbye before making his way back outside. 

He really should start getting ready for tonight.


	4. Kryptonite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting everyone! Irma paid us a visit not too long ago so I was busy the week before she came, without power the week after she came, and then I had to catch up on all the school work I missed during that week without power. I'm trying to post a chapter every week or every 2 weeks, so hopefully I'll be able to keep doing that. 
> 
> Chapter song: 3 Doors Down - Kryptonite

The party was in full swing by the time Creek arrived later that day. 

Lights, music, dancing, singing, and even a major fireworks display – the whole thing was going off without a hitch. 

Creek smiled to the other Trolls as he passed through the dancing crowd. They jumped around him, moving in an unorganized fashion to the rhythm of the music. Creek felt his smile become more and more strained the longer he remained in the crowd. The constant bumping of other Trolls was quickly ebbing on his nerves the more it occurred. His eyes scanned for one Troll in particular as he made his way through the massive dance floor, and he grinned when he caught sight of the grumpy Troll lurking on an overlooking branch. 

It took a bit more maneuvering to accomplish, but Creek finally managed to make his way through the crowd. He walked over to a more secluded portion of the area and, with as much breath as he could muster, whistled for one of his many bug friends to come to his aid. Even over the commotion of the party and distance that may have been between them, Creek knew for a fact that the particular bug he called for would come to his aid.

It didn’t have ears, but this bug could probably hear your thoughts if it tried. 

And, as expected, his little bug friend came buzzing to him after only a few seconds. Creek patted the shiny green exoskeleton, “Well done…” he looked closer at the tint of green, “Oscar, is it? Or is this… Randall?” A slight upward movement from the bug removed his hand, “Randall! I knew that, of course. Now, how about you do me a favor and fly me up there?” Creek pointed to the tree where he had previously seen Branch. “More specifically, Randall, why don’t you fly me up there as quietly as you can and drop me off behind that ghastly grey Troll looming over everyone like he’s ready to jump into action at the drop of a pin?”

The bug gave him what he knew to be a noise of acknowledgement before plucking him up by his hair and doing precisely as asked. Creek’s feet soundlessly hit the wood of the tree branch as he landed from his flight, and he gestured for Randall to take purchase inside his hair. 

For what he was about to do, it wouldn’t surprise him if Branch were to try to throw him off down to the awaiting crowd below. Then it was only a matter of if said crowd would catch him or **_not_** … In which case: having a backup plan that could _fly_ would be very nice. 

He quietly snuck behind the grey Troll, taking great strides not to step on a single piece of fragile-looking bark as he did so. He put on his most cocky smirk and leaned directly over Branch, putting his face very close to his ear and, in the most casual tone of voice he could muster despite the giddiness building within his gut, asked: 

“Acting as security tonight, Branch?”

The reaction was immediate and well worth the shove he received when Branch jumped back into him from surprise. The purple Troll could practically _feel_ Branch’s heart racing, and he honestly couldn’t contain the fit of laughter from escaping at the look of embarrassment and anger that greeted him as the grey Troll turned to face him. 

“What are you doing here, Creek?” Branch sneered. “Shouldn’t you be down there giving our location away with the rest of the village?”

“Aw, Branch, I’m hurt,” Creek chided as his laughter slowly died down. “Why is it that I can never visit you without you questioning the authenticity of my actions? I’m concerned for you, of course.”

“Yeah, sure,” Branch scoffed in disbelief. “From where I’m standing, it looks like your concern would be better spent on the Trolls down there. So how about you go join them?”

Creek put his hands together in a peaceful motion, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them. They’re down there having the time of their lives. But you? You’re up here all alone during the biggest party ever thrown for the coronation of our dear friend Poppy. You’re so drab, Branch. Don’t you want to have fun with everyone else?”

Branch narrowed his eyes as Creek drew nearer.

“What are you after, Creek? Why do you keep doing this?”

Creek stopped and he let out a dying laugh as his smile slowly fell, “Doing what?”

“This!” Branch angrily exclaimed. “You visit me almost every. Single. Day. And for what? Just to annoy me? Can’t you think of anything better to do than harass someone you don’t like?”

“Who says I don’t like you? All living creatures are—“

“— _friends_. Yeah, I’ve heard that line before, and I know you only say it because you want everyone to think you’re some _great_ guy who’s nice to everyone he meets. But I think we both know that you don’t see me as a friend, so what are you really after?”

Suddenly the obnoxiously loud music below them quieted, and Creek could hear the King’s voice call out to the large gathering of Trolls.   
Branch, however, must have failed to notice any of that. The grey Troll’s attention was solely fixated on Creek in that instant, his eyes holding a determination that made Creek want to slink back down the tree and hide amongst the crowd. 

The purple Troll unconsciously rubbed his arm.

The King's voice wasn’t nearly as easy to hear from up on the tree branch as it would have been had Creek stayed with the rest of the village. As Creek’s attention fixated on what the King was saying, he felt a sense of nervousness well up inside him. He knew that the coronation song would be coming soon, and he really didn’t want to sing. His mind raced with the moral obligations that singing would bring – he could sing and celebrate Poppy’s new reign or, more preferably but slightly less ethical, he could simply ignore the song. It wasn’t as if Branch would care, but someone might take notice of where they stood and see that Creek wasn’t singing.

“Well?” Branch demanded. 

Would Branch sing? Creek didn’t know. 

As he heard the other trolls take a deep breath of air, Creek did the same unconsciously. 

Before anyone could let out a single syllable however, a deeper, more sinister voice spoke:

“ ** _Hello_**.”

All inhales were stuck within the lungs of each Troll as they stood, horrified at the creature grinning menacingly down at them all. 

The forest became eerily still in that moment, but Creek could feel his heart beating a million miles an hour. Blood rushed in his ears, and he could feel his breath begin to quicken in a sensation of panic he hadn’t felt since he was child. Even from way up on the tree branch, Creek could describe the Bergen in great detail – her ratty hair, piercing yellow eyes, and that wide, sharp-toothed grin.

It took the piercing sound of cracking bark, to break the trance Creek had been in. The purple Troll’s eyes snapped to look at Branch. Although the grey Troll still faced Creek, his gaze away from the horrifying creature standing over the rest of their village, Creek could tell that he knew exactly what was happening.

It only took a few more seconds before the Trolls below them began to scream. At the same time, the tell-tale sound of bark beginning to break began again, and Creek could clearly piece together now that it was because Branch was beginning to turn around to witness the chaos below. Amidst the screaming and yelling and snapping of bark, Creek acted without thinking: he grabbed Branch’s arm and yanked the grey Troll fully around toward the trunk of the tree – pushing him down before wrapping him in the tightest hug he could muster. Creek’s body kept Branch in place and out of view from anyone below them – the monster included.

“What are you doing?!” Branch angrily yelled as he struggled to get back to his feet.

Honestly Creek had no idea what he was doing. His heart was beating so loud and, with the sound of screaming mixed in, he could barely hear anything else in the chaos. All he knew was that he and Branch needed to get out of sight and, as Branch was now demonstrating with his frantic twisting, the grey Troll was not going to voluntarily hide. 

“Get off me!”

“No!” Creek yelled furiously as he continued to fight to keep Branch in place. 

Creek’s efforts were of no use as Branch reached to grab the nearest object. Unfortunately for Creek, that object happened to be a very sharp pine needle, and was used to jab him in his side. The purple troll had only flinched in pain for a moment, but it was enough for Branch to get the upper hand and roll out from under him. 

Branch was quick on his feet as he ran for a zipline at the end of the tree branch, and Creek cursed the other’s paranoia. The grey Troll must have installed the damn zipline in preparation for the party with the very thought that something like this would happen. As Branch used the pine needle still clutched in his hands as a cable grab, Creek was right behind him ready to do the same. They both glided down into the chaos with entirely different mindsets. 

One for the safety of another, and another for the safety of others. 

Branch was the first to land, but Creek dropped from the zipline prematurely to tackle the other to the ground.

“I’ve got to help them!” Branch yelled and kicked Creek off. 

The grey Troll took off running in the direction of the Bergen, now having pulled out two stakes from his pack. They wouldn’t do much good in a fight against a creature so large – Creek knew that and he was 100% certain that Branch was aware of that too, but the other troll was just too damn stubborn to think clearly in that moment.

They both were. 

And that’s why Creek ran after him.

“Creek!” A panicked female voice called.

Out of habit, the purple Troll looked to the source of the voice and saw his Master huddling under leaf with a group of younger Trolls. The green Troll reached out to him with a fear in her eyes so raw that it made his stomach knot even tighter at the stupid decision he had made. Why didn't he just wait on the tree branch? He would have been safe. Everything would have been alright. And even now, looking at his master as she reached for him - he could hide. He could _survive_ this. 

But he couldn't stop running. 

The sound of his master calling to him slowly faded as he ran farther and farther away, toward the Bergen, toward…

“Branch!” he called out.

Branch ignored him. 

The grey Troll ran up to the Bergen just as she plucked the pink princess herself from the ground.

Poppy struggled in the grasp of the Bergen, her arms too weak against such a large threat. “Branch!” She yelled to the grey Troll as she saw him advance toward her.

“Poppy! Hold on!”

Branch scaled his way onto the Bergen’s foot with stakes in hand. The Bergen didn’t even notice him until those two stakes were jabbed into her foot.

“Ouch!” She cried in pain. It wasn’t anything too bad, Creek was sure. It would have most likely been the same amount of pain one felt when they were jabbed in the side with a pine needle, but it was enough to get her attention. With a harsh kick, Branch was thrown off her foot and back onto the ground.

“You stupid little Troll!” the Bergen sneered. She threw the princess into her fanny pack before leaning down to grab Branch.

Creek reacted as fast as he could in that moment. He tackled Branch once more – this time rolling with him out of the way of the Bergen’s hand and under a large mushroom. Keeping the struggling Troll as still as he could, Creek used his hair to instantly camouflage them from sight. 

It only took a few moments for the Bergen to show her ugly face again. 

She peered under the mushroom with a furious glare. Her ugly eyes burned holes into Creek as he struggled to hold onto Branch and fight his own anxiety from welling to the surface. 

That Bergen. 

That horrible, ugly, _cruel_ Bergen. 

The same Bergen that he had seen all those years ago. 

A fire welled up within his gut as the Bergen finally moved away from the mushroom to trudge toward where she thought other Trolls may be.

But there was nothing. Creek was certain that the rest of the Trolls had taken the opportunity to hide while the Bergen had been busy chasing Poppy and fighting off Branch. It was likely that she wouldn’t be finding anyone any time soon. 

The area was deathly quiet save for the frustrated noises emitted from the female Bergen as she tried to find more Trolls.

“Where are you?!” she furiously howled. “Where are you miserable creatures hiding now?!”

Creek could hear her throwing logs and breaking houses in her anger.

“Fine!” She finally yelled to the heavens after what felt like an eternity. “Hide! But I’ll be back! I won’t stop until every last Troll has been devoured!”

With that said, the Bergen finally stomped away. 

And that was the exact moment that Creek thought that lowering his guard would be appropriate. 

Except it wasn’t. 

In seemingly an instant, Branch was back on his feet and running after the female Bergen, rope in-hand.

What in the world was he going to do with that!?

Creek didn’t have much time to think about it as he found himself _once_ _again_ running after the grey Troll. He was terrified, but he just couldn’t stop himself. When Branch managed to catch up with the Bergen, he threw the rope as high as he could, the hooked end managing to snag into the female’s dirty white coat. Now, with the rope grasped tightly in his hands, Branch began to actually _climb up_. 

What the hell was he thinking?!

But, once more, Creek found himself compelled to follow. Just managing to snag the rope himself before he lost all ability to keep up with the thunderous stride of the Bergen, Creek followed the rope trail. 

He followed it all the way up to the Bergen's _hat_. 

And it was only then, once he was sure that the Bergen had no sensation of them being on top of her hair, that Creek was finally – **_finally_** – able to say the words he’d been wanting to say through most of the night:

“What is _wrong_ with you!?”


	5. Decision Makers [Short]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm extremely sorry about this, but I'm a bit busier than usual this week so this chapter is ridiculously short. The song title for this chapter is "Decision Makers" by They Might Be Giants. The reason for that is because it's also very short (15 seconds)!

“What’s wrong with _me_? What’s wrong with _you_?” Branch harshly whispered in return, “Why did you follow me?!”

“What was I supposed to do? Just watch you as you made this tremendously horrible suicide attempt? You know, there are a lot better ways to end one’s life, Branch. Getting eaten by a Bergen, I believe, is one of the more _painful_ ways. ”

The two Trolls fell to their knees when the Bergen they rode atop took a larger-than-usual step along her war path to who knew where. Thankfully the sound of crunching leaves beneath her feet further shielded the two Trolls’ conversation as Branch and Creek regained their footing on the Bergen’s fluffy hair. 

Branch scowled at the purple Troll, “ _I_ know what I’m doing. _You_ , on the other hand, just made yourself another problem I have to deal with, so how about you do us both a favor and get down from here before this goes too far!”

Creek’s eyes momentarily looked to the rim of the white hat before turning back to Branch, “I’m not going anywhere unless you come with me.”

“And _I’m_ not going anywhere until I get Poppy back." 

Creek couldn't believe the complete lack of common sense coming from the other Troll. Still, he tried to reason with Branch as though he were a stubborn child, “We can’t rescue her!" The purple Troll exclaimed in a harsh whisper so as to not disturb the Bergen. "She’s already been captured by this _thing_ we’re currently riding! The only thing we can do now is save _ourselves_.”

Branch narrowed his eyes, “Go on and save yourself then.” 

_Oh for the love of-!_

Creek let out an exhasperated sigh, “You know I can’t do that.”

“No one is forcing you to stay here!”

“ _You_ are forcing me to stay here!”

Branch put his arms in the air, palms facing Creek, and did his best to remain on his feet despite the continuing movements of the Bergen below, “I don’t see a rope in my hands, and I’m all the way over here. How am I possibly forcing you to stay here?”

Creek frowned and folded his arms, “Shut up. I’m not leaving.”

Branch suddenly let a tiny smirk form on his face, “So I guess you’re staying here with me until this Bergen stops moving.”

It was spoken as an observation rather than a question, and it made Creek's eyes widen at the implication.

“ _Until she sto—?!_ ”

“Yup,” Branch breathed and let out a yawn. “And, judging by how fast she’s moving through the forest, I would say that’s going to be a while. Probably as much time as it takes for an adult Bergen to walk all the way back to Bergen Town - _which_ I've already done the math for.” The grey Troll fluffed up a bit of the Bergen’s hair as he moved to lay down upon it, Creek, all the while, looked on with a look of slowly dawning realization.

“I’ve had a long night,” Branch cockily muttered as he turned away from Creek. “Think I’ll catch a few hours of sleep before I rescue Poppy in the morning. If you’re still here by then, maybe you can try to stay out of my way.”

Creek stood there frozen in disbelief, and he couldn’t for the life of him find any words to describe the complete and utter horror of his current situation. Truly he was a mute.

That was until he heard the grey Troll begin to snore.

“You’re insane!”


	6. Have a Nice Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, everyone. Holiday months are upon us, and first on the list is none other than my all time fave - Halloween!!! I'm so excited! I really hope you all like this chapter, I've been trying to get everything all together on it so that the story flows the way I'm wanting it to, but if you see any mistakes I've made, please feel free to point them out. After staring at the same story so many times, you can easily miss things. 
> 
> And then you can mess up by forgetting to put in one "/" and find that your entire story has been published in italics... Dude, it sucks. Lol
> 
> Chapter song: "Have a Nice Day" by World Order

_Mmhh mmhhmm mhm mh_!

Murmurings, muffled by a lack of awareness and the thin material of a white hat, were what woke Creek from his stress-induced nap. He slowly recalled the events of yesterday as he pieced together why his bed felt like wiry hair.

He remembered struggling to catch up with Branch and prevent him from doing something ridiculously stupid.

He remembered the grey Troll falling asleep and beginning to snore.

He remembered that they had slept atop a savage Bergen's head.

However, although the realization should have induced panic within him, Creek found that he was just too comfortable to care about his current situation. Yes, the wirey hair pricking his legs and arms was annoying, but the thing he found himself hugging closer to him was warm, soft, and calming. His hands ran over the smooth texture of the thing in his arms, and he smiled despite the harrowing situation.

It had only felt natural to slowly open his eyes.

Soft grey hair. 

Warm grey skin. 

A slight snore. 

Oh _no_.

In Creek’s arms was the one-and-thankfully- _only_ grumpy grey Troll himself. To say Creek was surprised would have been the understatement of the century, however,even with the increase in his heart rate, the purple Troll was more curious as to how he had ended up in this situation. As he recalled from the night before, he had made the conscious decision to sleep as far away from the grey Troll as was physically possible.

The purple Troll craned his head to look past Branch’s shoulder to get a good look of where they were under the hat. And, as far as he could tell, they were smack dab in the middle of it.

So... that was something. 

How the hell did _that_ happen?!

It was an odd situation, for sure. However, as Creek struggled to clear his calm mind, he knew that there were far more pressing matters to attend to – the major one being that he and Branch had slept past their initial plan of escape.

The area under the hat was lit up from the complete darkness it had been the night previously. This could only be a sign that they were either in broad daylight or, even worse, in a building with electricity. 

Creek sincerely hoped for the former. 

He pulled himself away from Branch and, on wobbly legs, regained his footing. 

He was about to kick the still-sleeping Troll awake, when the sight of Branch's face caught him off-guard.

He looked.... strangely peaceful.

The hard lines of distress and cynicism that normally marred Branch’s face were absent, as well was the usual frown that curved his lips. In their place was a younger looking Troll - one with smooth features and a slight smile of contentment that made Creek's heart skip for a moment when he caught sight of it.

It was quite the view.

A sudden jerk of motion from the Bergen below threw Creek off-balance in that moment, causing both his and Branch’s eyes to widen as they collided in a pile of limbs and obscenities . 

“What are you doing!?” Branch whisper-yelled as he pushed Creek off him. 

“Trying to get back to my feet obviously!” Creek whisper-yelled in return as he _once-again_ had to fight his way back to his feet. 

Branch was quick to follow him up. His dark eyes scanned the area underneath the hat, narrowing in confusion, “It’s day already?”

Creek shrugged, “Either day or we’re inside somewhere.”

Branch frowned at the words and a look of confusion and concern crossed his face, “I’ve never slept this long before… I...I have no idea what time it is.”

“Oh? Well, I can help with that one – I believe it’s about time for us to get out of here.”

Branch gave Creek a deadpan look in response. 

_“Ah, King Gristle_!”

The loud voice of the female Bergen below finally got Branch's and Creek's attention back to the situation at hand.

“What do you want, Chef? I think I remember that were banished _forever_ from coming back into Bergen Town?”

The female Bergen, Chef, unenthusiastically chuckled, “ _Yes_ , I remember. But I’ve brought you something to make up for my past mistake, my King. Something that I'm sure you're going to be very _happy_ to see.”

They were walking, and then Branch and Creek felt something crush under Chef’s foot.

“I don't think you breaking my scullery maid's vacuum is making me any happier, Ex-Chef! In fact, I think it's bringing me closer to having you thrown out the door you came in."

Chef let out a horrifically artificial gasp of surprise, “Oh, I’m so sorry, miss!” Chef cried in mock-sympathy. “I honestly didn’t see you there.”

Creek and Branch could only make out a few quiet words, presumably from the scullery maid Chef had nearly stepped on, before the female Bergen spoke again, “Sire, I have brought with me something that will change all of Bergen Town!”

The King scoffed, “Yeah, I’m so sure.”

“I know I’ve let you down in the past, but I’ve spent all these years trying to make up for it. Without the comfort of Bergen Town, I’ve had to live only off my determination and drive. And all that determination and time has finally paid off.”

“ _How_?”

Chef grinned, “I finally found happiness.”

At Chef’s words, Creek and Branch looked at each other before rushing to the rim of the hat. They pulled the thick white rim up just enough so they could now see what was going on. 

They were indoors and, judging by the large decorated stone walls, high ceilings, and expensive looking furniture, Creek and Branch could only assume that they were in a very _bad_ situation. Creek nudged Branch slightly to bring the grey Troll’s attention down to the female Bergen’s fanny pack. Chef’s bumpy fingers slowly grasped the zipper of the pack, taunting the King and the Trolls who looked on with a growing anticipation, before unzipping it fully and reaching inside. 

“May I introduce you to…”

 _There!_ There she was!

“… _Princess Poppy_ ,” Chef finished with a sense of smug satisfaction. 

The pink Troll struggled within the female Bergen’s grasp. Her arms were pinned to her sides but she moved herself from side-to-side in a futile attempt at gaining some form of space to wriggle out from. 

The Bergen king’s eyes instantly widened as he gazed down at the struggling Troll held within Chef’s clutches. 

“This... This is really Princess Poppy?” he asked in an awed whisper. 

“ _Yes_. She’s the only one I managed to catch amidst the chaos of Troll Village but, I assure you, finding the other Trolls will be a piece of cake. I really only wanted to capture her especially for _you_ , sire.”

“Chef, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that you’ll let me cook for you again. I’ve been preparing for this moment for _twenty years_ , and all I've ever wanted was to make Bergen Town happy again – starting with the Bergen who I let down all those years ago.”

The king bit his lip for a moment before his eyes left the form of the struggling Troll to look back at Chef, “Yeah," he breathed, "I think that’s a good idea.” His face broke into a smile, “Welcome back, Chef! With your help, we can find the rest of the Trolls and make everyone happy again!”

“Yes!” Chef declared with happy laugh of triumph, “I can’t wait to get started!”

“We should have a big celebration for the whole town!” The King stated. “How long do you think it will take to find the rest of the Trolls?”

Creek and Branch looked at each other.

"Do you think everyone has relocated to your base since we've been gone?" Creek asked the grey Troll next to him.

Branch frowned, "I hope so. I've only told everyone in Troll Village about it a million times." He looked at Creek, "You remembered it, so I'm hoping that's a good sign."

Creek scoffed, "I remember a lot of things you've said over time. Doesn't really mean that others have."

Branch gave Creek a look of confusion, but the purple Troll found himself looking back to the Bergens.

“Not too long," Chef responded to the King. "Now that I know the area where their village is, I can return there with a team to extract them from every pod, tree, or patch of dirt they want to hide in. 

Branch let out a harsh laugh, " _Good luck_." 

Creek couldn't help the amused smirk that formed in response.

"However," Chef continued. "I think it would be best to make _your_ Troll the main event of the _first_ celebration we'll have to reckon in this new dawn of happiness. I think it would be good for the Town to finally see that their King is happy. We can get Princess Poppy all well prepared for you, while we can make a wide assortment of dishes for the other Bergens to eat during the festivities!”

The King tilted his head in confusion, “You don’t think you could round up enough Trolls for everyone in the Town by that time?”

" _Nope_ ," Branch cockily replied.

“To be frank, King Gristle, I’m not sure the Troll-Bergen ratio is split evenly. You were very young, but back when we still had the Troll Tree, we could only take a few Trolls at a time for special occasions. They’re the type to not reproduce often due to how _preoccupied_ they are with singing and dancing and such.”

“Oh,” King Gristle stated. From the look on his face, Creek and Branch could see that he was working out the logic in his head. 

“We should start sending out the information immediately to the rest of the Town," Chef concluded. "Despite how long I’ve been away, I’m sure I can whip the kitchen back into shape in time for a feast, and we all know how badly this town needs something to celebrate.”

“Well, yeah," the King hesitantly agreed, "but I still think we should _maybe_ pick up a few more Trolls for the feast so that we can all try it?”

Chef put her hand to her chin in thought, “We wouldn’t want word of a Troll in the castle getting back to the Town – other Bergens may suspect that you’ve been keeping Trolls all to yourself the entire time," the King bristled at the very thought. " _or_ ," Chef continued, "they may attempt to steal Princess Poppy for themselves. Out of all the possible scenarios I can think of, having a feast as soon as possible seems like the better option."

"However," Chef continued before the King could respond, "we could _share_ one Troll between the entire town.”

The King made a disbelieving face, “How would that work?”

“Well, we could cook Princess Poppy in a stew. It may dilute the flavor of _true_ happiness… but if you want to share your first Troll to be shared with others, well, it can certainly be done.”

The King looked hesitant for a moment, before nodding his head assuredly, “Yes. That would be the right thing to do since we haven’t had a Troll for such a long time.”

Chef sighed, “If that’s how you want it, we should begin preparations immediately.” She put her hand behind the King’s back, beginning to lead him in the direction that was most likely the kitchen, before she stopped and looked to the scullery maid still picking up pieces of her broken vacuum off the floor, “What’s her name?” She asked.

“Oh, her name is Bridgette,” the King replied in a happy tone.

“Do you think she can handle looking after Princess Poppy for us while we plan for the feast?”

“Sure! She’s worked here pretty much all her life. She’s completely trustworthy.”

“Good," Chef stated before addressing the scullery maid who had been waiting to be properly addressed, "Bridgette, I’m going to put you in charge of Princess Poppy.”

Chef placed the pink Troll back within the fanny pack and then tossed it over to the shorter scullery maid.

Bridgette struggled to catch it, but when it was finally within her grasp, she gave chef a nod in assurance. “You can count on me,” she quietly said.

Chef's steely gaze made the short scullery maid visibly flinch, “Don’t let her out of your sight for even a minute. I know first-hand how good they are at escaping from their cages.”

Another nod from Bridgette, and Chef seemed satisfied enough to turn back in the direction of the kitchen.

The King, before following after Chef, gave Bridgette a thumbs-up in encouragement.

And now Branch and Creek were moving _away_ from Poppy.

“Oh no, we’re moving away from the target,” Branch cursed as he watched the scullery maid walk in the direction opposite to them. 

“Oh, you mean Poppy?" Creek sarcastically asked with a wave of his hand. "You mean to say that we're going to die here in Bergen Town exactly as I said we would? Wow. I'm so surprised. How are we going to get out of here now?”

Branch kept his eyes on the short scullery maid as she left the large throne room through one of the many doors that lined the halls.

“We have to follow her," the grey Troll stated, eyes still on the door. "On the count of three, you’re going to grab onto me and I’m going to grapple us to that ledge over to our right.” Branch stated as he pulled what-looked to be a homemade grappling hook from his pack. 

“You can’t be serious! Have you even tested that thing?”

“Of course I have!” Branch defended. “I just haven't tested how well it works holding the weight of two Trolls…”

“There is absolutely no way—“

“—We don’t have time to argue,” Branch stated before reaching out and grabbing onto Creek’s arm. “You better hold on tight!”

“3…2…1—!”

_**SLAM!** _

Just then the door to the throne room slammed shut in front of them, and Branch found himself aiming his grappling hook at just a wall. There was nothing he could grab onto from here!

“So this is what has happened to the kitchen since I’ve been gone!” Chef exclaimed before running one of her fingers over the surface of the counter closest to her. “Absolutely atrocious, but better than I thought it would be.”

The King nodded, “Yeah, we haven’t really had any celebrations since, you know, all the Trolls escaped, so the kitchen doesn't get used very often.”

“Yes,” Chef drawled. “But we’re going to put an end to that soon enough.” Chef’s gaze fell upon a large pile of dirty dishes and she frowned, “And did they stop the cleaning too?”

“I, uh, I really don’t know. Bridgette's not in charge of cleaning the kitchen.”

“Cooking staff!” Chef yelled with all of her breath. After a few minutes of waiting, a few groggy Bergens wearing cooking hats stumbled into the kitchen. As soon as their eyes fell upon Chef, their backs straightened and they suddenly looked much **much** more alive.

“Yes, Chef!” They all stated in unisen. 

“Is this what I taught you?" Chef asked rhetorically. "To leave dirt, grime, and dirty dishes all over the kitchen where you serve the **_KING_** and his subjects?”

The cooking staff looked down in shame, shaking their heads.

“That’s _right_! We’re going to have a celebration in this castle in a few days time – Doesn’t matter what for – and we need this place to be spic and span by then, do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes, Chef!”

There were 10 members of the cooking staff, all eager to listen to their long-lost chef, but still not nearly enough to get everything clean.

“I want half of you to work on one side, while the other half works on the other side," Chef ordered. "We can’t cook a single _scrap_ of food until every surface in this kitchen is clean enough to eat off of!” Chef looked to the King who had been standing patiently in the corner watching as the cooking staff instantly went about following Chef’s command.

“King Gristle?” She asked.

The short King straightened up himself under Chef’s gaze, almost embarrassed that he had been so caught up in the moment. “Yes, Ch – I mean, uh, yeah?”

“Do you think the scullery maid – _Bridgette_ – could help wash dishes? We’re going to need all the help we can get if we’re going to make it in time for the celebration.”

“Sure she can! She’s been keeping this place clean pretty much singlehandedly for 20 years.”

Chef grinned, “Excellent. And she still lives in the room located under this room?”

“Yup.”

“Well _alright!_ ”

Chef walked over to a rather large pile of dirty dishes, picked up a few plates, and then walked over to an inconspicuous lever. She pulled it and a rather _large_ hole in the floor suddenly revealed itself from the dirty tile floor.

“I’ll just toss her a few then.”

Chef then proceeded to toss the two plates into the hole with a look of utter delight on her face.

“That’s it!” Creek exclaimed, nudging Branch. “That contraption works similarly to your ridiculous doorway.”

Branch scoffed before giving Creek a bit of a smile, “At least it gives us a way out of here and to Poppy. I say we go for it.”

“How about you throw one of the many devices in your pack to distract them and then we can dive in after the plates.”

“That’s… actually a good idea.”

Creek frowned, “Oh, don’t look so surprised. It’s the only chance we have of possibly getting out of a room filled with Bergens. I think I would much rather deal with _one_ relatively short Bergen, than 11 tall ones and 1 short King.”

Branch gave Creek a smirk in response. 

Chef was picking up a few more dishes.

“So… I guess I’ll just leave it to you guys right now?” The King asked as he inched his way back to the door they had entered from.

“Yes, sire,” Chef responded. “It’s been a while, so you may want to go into town to get bib that’s more in style for the party coming up.”

The King smiled, “Yeah! That’s a pretty good idea." He finally made it to the door and gave Chef a little wave as he headed out, “See ya later, everyone!”

All staff said their pleasant goodbyes to their ruler before rushing back to work as soon as the door to the kitchen closed once more. 

Chef smiled to herself and looked down at the dusty plates in her hands, “It feels so good to be back.”

She began to pull the lever once more.

“Now, Branch!”

Branch reached into his pack and tossed something solid at a nearby stack of plates, causing them to fall with a loud crash to the side of Chef. 

Chef let out a noise of surprise at the sound, and turned her head in the direction of the noise. Branch didn’t have time to see if the other Bergens in the kitchen were doing the same before he grabbed Creek’s arm and jumped into the unknown.

Now he just had to get the parachute out of his pack and they would be ok.


	7. Say Say Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you guys believe that it's almost been a month since I last posted a chapter? I'm really sorry about that. Here's an extra long one that I hope will make up for it in some way. 
> 
> Chapter song: "Say Say Say" by Paul McCartney & Michael Jackson

Luckily the parachute worked. 

“I’m not in love with the king!”

Those were the first words Creek and Branch heard as they floated down into the bowels of the tunnel. It was a surreal, _confusing_ moment for the pair, and they gave each other a weird look before they finally made it to the end of the long tunnel. They entered what looked to be a Bergen’s bedroom. It was messy with dishes everywhere, but what really caught their attention was the sight of what awaited them on the small, dirty, thinly covered, bed. It was the none other than the pink princess, _lording_ over the _Bergen_ scullery maid. Poppy swung slightly on a golden cord, swinging at the front of the bed as the Bergen sat farther away, her hands covering her face in embarrassment as her eyes locked on the wall covered in pictures of King Gristle.

“So you just have pictures of him taped everywhere for fun?” The princess asked the embarrassed Bergen with a sarcastic smile.

“Yes! I mean no! I… um. Maybe…”

Dear _lord_. They were _bonding_. 

Creek looked at Branch’s face just in time to see the unamused Troll give a long-suffering sigh.

The Bergen must have either heard it or seen the two Trolls drifting to a slow stop at the end of the bed because she turned to look toward them. “What is that?”

Poppy's eyes followed and instantly widened upon seeing Branch and Creek land upon the soft bed.

“Creek!”

Forgetting her little conversation with the supposibly blood-thirsty Bergen, Poppy hopped off the cord and ran to the purple Troll. Her arms enveloped him in a tight hug that he only responded to with a slight pat on the back and a glance over at Branch. The grey Troll waited to the side with his gaze focus on the short Bergen.

“That’s a weird way for Chef to send down more Trolls,” Bridgette commented. 

Branch frowned, “We’re not here to be eaten, Bergen.”

Poppy finally pulled away from Creek, only to grasp his hands as the other tried to back farther away. 

“That’s right!” She piped in. “They’re here to rescue me!”

Her grip was soft but firm as she held onto Creek’s hands. The pink princess has turned away from him to address the Bergen so she didn’t see the look of discomfort on his face as he slightly tugged his hands in her grasp. “Uh, yes,” he chimed in, the weariness in his voice only barely present. “So how about you just um—” he yanked his hands free, taking notice of how the princess once again failed to notice his discomfort. “—follow us, and we will be on our way?”

“What? You can’t just leave!” The Bergen stated. 

Branch took a defensive position, pulling out the tip of a pine needle from his pack and holding it in front of himself, “Like we’re just going to stay here to be eaten! I’d like to see you try to—”

“Branch!”

The grey Troll turned to look at the princess, “What?” he hissed in return.

She gave him a placating smile as she rocked on the back of her heels, “I was thinking that we shouldn’t leave yet.”

“What!?” Creek cried in alarm.

“Yes," Poppy decreed as though she were already the queen and currently _not_ in a life-or-death situation. "Bridgette actually seems like a nice girl, alright? It got me thinking: what if not all Bergen’s are evil?”

“Evil?” Bridgette parroted in disbelief.

Branch’s eyes narrowed and his mouth opened to most-assuredly protest, however, it was another who rose their voice to attest.

“You must be out of your mind!”

Creek looked at the pink Troll with an expression Branch couldn’t readily place. His tone was somber and his hands clenched into twin fists at his sides.

“Have you forgotten that these monsters _eat_ Trolls? How many friends and family members did you lose to the Troll Tree, Princess Poppy? How many did you actually know and become attached to?”

The Princess faltered, “None, but—”

“I lost someone very dear to me during that time, Poppy. You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone you love to a monster you can’t even fight!”

Poppy didn’t have a chance to respond.

“Creek’s right,” Branch stated, his eyes held onto Creek’s own. The grey Troll could see pinpricks of tears in the other’s eyes, but he looked back to the Bergen to give Creek a chance to wipe them away in peace. “Have you ever lost someone you love?”

The Bergen looked down to her hands clutched in the bed sheets, “I lost my parents when I was really little… but because I was so little, I never really got to know them.”

“What if you lost the King Gristle?”

Bridgette’s eyes widened, “I…”

“You like him right? Imagine him being taken from you and you couldn’t do anything but watch him being carried off – knowing that he’ll be killed, and cooked, and then _eaten_ by a bunch of giants that could kill you just by not paying attention to where they're going!”

It took a few moments for the image to play out in the Bergen’s mind, but when her face fell farther, and large tears fell from her eyes, Branch knew she had gotten the picture.

“I’m so sorry!” she cried as she covered her face with her hands. Her words came out choked through her sobbing and each word came out as a hiccup, “I. Never. Realized.”

Branch scoffed, “It’s really not that hard to understand.”

“But. It. Is.” Bridgette hiccupped in response. She rightened herself up a bit before continuing with a clearer voice but with tears still streaming down her cheeks, “We’re taught that the only way for us to ever be happy is if we eat a Troll. I never really interacted with a Troll before so I just kind of figured that you guys were like…. I don’t _know_ , but I never really thought about it before. I’m so so sorry. I never wanted to hurt anybody – I just wanted to know what it felt like to be happy.”

“Bridgette,” Poppy sighed and placed her small hand on the Bergen’s leg. “I want to show Bergen’s that they don’t need to eat Trolls to be happy.” She looked back at Creek and Branch, “I know… that lives can’t be replaced, but if we don’t do this then Trolls will always be hunted, and Bergen’s will never understand how happiness actually works.” She took a deep breath, “I’d like for you both to help me with this, but I understand if you just want to leave.”

“I’ll stay,” Branch resigned without taking a moment to think through his words. 

A bitter chuckle came from the purple Troll next to him, “Well, I’ve already come this far.”

Poppy's bright smile could have lit up a room in that moment, and it served to lighten the mood as she once again looked to the Bergen still wiping tears from her eyes.

“So what makes really makes you happy?”

The Bergen turned to look at the wall plastered with pictures of King Gristle, and Poppy elbowed the Bergen’s leg in a playful manner, “I told you, you like him.”

“Yeah,” Bridgette chuckled as her tears finally seemed to cease. “But he would never go for a scullery maid – especially not me.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?”

“Well, I mean he’s the King. He could have anyone he wants.”

Poppy playfully scoffed, “How about we show him that what he really wants is you?”

The Bergen blushed but raised a brow in curiosity, “Yeah?”

“Yeah! We can get his attention big time if we just get you in something a little more eye-catching. Maybe you could take him out on a date or something!”

“But I have all this work to do before the big party. There’s really not a lot of time before you guys have to… Well, I guess before you guys have to leave. I’ll help you guys escape. They’ll know it was me, but I can’t let you guys get hurt. I don’t want _any_ more Trolls to have to get hurt.”

“We appreciate that,” Poppy genuinely stated, before putting her hand to her chin in thought. “Maybe we can get the King's attention in the castle while you do chores? Do you have any other outfits?”

Bridgette hummed in thought, “Well there is this one outfit…”

\--

And that is how, an hour later, Branch and Creek found themselves atop _another_ Bergen’s head. The only difference between where they were now and where they were _before_ was that _this_ time, the Bergen didn’t want to eat them, Poppy was with them, their hair was entangled into a semi-colorful wig, and they had to watch said Bergen as she dusted the castle in blissful ignorance of the world around her as she listened to her Walkman. 

Bridgette hummed along to the music as she wiped off tables and mirrors in the hall. 

“This is kind of boring,” Poppy complained from her spot. 

Branch gave her an unamused look, “What did you think was going to happen when you signed up for chores?” As the Bergen below turned to dust another table, Branch tugged his hair a bit as it pulled with the Bergen’s movements. 

“I guess I thought that the King would already be _here_ and _not_ off getting a new bib,” Poppy sighed. “Then he’d notice how awesome Bridgette looks, fall hopelessly in love, and then we’d be on our way because love is the ultimate form of happiness that can’t be obtained by eating a Troll?” The pink princess said the last bit all in one breath. Obviously doing something like that was a way for her to make a bit of fun for herself. Even if it meant she had to take a deep breath before she continued, “I mean, she looks fabulous. If the King were here, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Creek had to admit, despite being a Bergen, Bridgette had spruced up into something much more appealing than she had been before. She had on a bright pink jumpsuit with black polka dots – ridiculous-looking to be sure, but much less drab than the dress she previously dawned. And now, with her hair down and braided along with Creek’s, Branch’s, and Poppy’s, she had a much more eye-catching appearance. For a Bergen at least. 

Suddenly, the Trolls picked up on muffled voices below them.

“What's that?” Poppy asked.

Creek and Branch shrugged their shoulders. As if they would know what was going on in a castle they’ve only been in for a day.

Poppy rolled her eyes before tapping Bridgette on the head, earning her attention as the Bergen pulled out one of her earphones.

“Yeah?” The short Bergen asked. 

“What’s that noise we’re hearing from below us?”

Bridgette looked down at her Walkman, “You… mean my Walkman? It helps calm me down. You can listen too if you—“

“No, I mean, I think we’re hearing a bunch of voices.”

“Oh that!” Bridgette replied as she wiped down the crown molding of the wall, “We’re above the kitchen right now, so that’s probably just Chef and the kitchen staff getting things ready.”

“Oh. Chef's kinda scary, isn't she?”

“Well she did kidnap you to feed to the King,” Creek replied. 

Bridgette slowed in her movements along the molding, “Yeah, she’s always been the driving force behind Trollstice. Believe it or not, before she was banished, this place used to be a lot more lively. And now that she’s back, I think the kitchen staff are the happiest they’ve been in 20 years! It might be hard to convince Chef and her followers that Trollstice is actually an unnecessary holiday…”

“Maybe we can just feed her to another monster instead of convincing her?” Branch stated.

Poppy frowned at him before a contemplative look graced her features, “I wonder what makes _her_ happy?”

“Probably cooking,” Bridgette offhandedly stated. “She is the head chef after all. From what I remember back when she worked here before being banished, she was always smiling when she cooked. I always thought that was just because of the Trolls. Like, maybe she was taking samples or something? But now I think that it may have just been because cooking was what she liked to do.”

“King Gristle!”

They all stopped at the name, all ears now keenly leaning toward the floor to hear a bit better.

“Don’t you look nice in your wonderful new bib!”

“Thanks, Chef! I just wanted to drop in to see if I could get a snack? Going to town and trying on all those new bibs made me kind of hungry.”

“Of course, sire! I can whip something up in a matter of minutes if you don’t mind waiting.”

“No problem. I’ll be outside on the veranda. Just bring it to me when you’re done.”

“Certainly!”

Poppy grinned, “Did you hear that?”

“These floors aren’t very soundproof, are they?” Creek mused. 

Poppy playfully pushed the other, “Do you know where the veranda is, Bridgette?”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know about this. I’m starting to get really nervous, like, I’m not sure if I can even hold my broom right now because my hands are sweating so bad.”

“Do you want to get the King’s attention or not?” Branch replied in an aggravated tone. 

Bridgette was already walking. Her arms were full of dusting materials, and her broom was gripped tightly in her other hand as though she was fully prepared to get to work on the veranda. Her movements, however effective they were at getting them to the veranda, were sloppy and the Bergen almost tripped on absolutely nothing as she crossed another corridor. 

“O-Of course I do!” She weakly replied. 

Creek could practically hear her heart beating.

“Then you’ve got to work it, girl!" Poppy supplied in her ever-eager tone of voice. "You’ve got to go out there and show him what you’re made of! You look amazing, there’s no way he’s not going to notice you!”

“You really think so?”

“Of course!”

Bridgette still looked skeptical. Her hands fiddled with the door handle leading out onto the veranda, while her broom shuffled into the crook of her elbow as she awkwardly tried to move about. She took a few deep breaths, all the while as Poppy's never-ending pep rally continued, before the Bergen finally had enough courage to enter through it.

The female Troll had probably been prepared for questions, maybe a surprised stare, but she wasn’t really counting on the King not noticing her at all as she stood on the veranda before him.

“Just do your thing, Bridgette. He’ll notice!” Poppy whispered encouragingly.

And so the female Bergen steeled her nerves. With broom and dusting materials in-hand, she made her way to the railing to the side of the King. As she began to dust with her cloth, her hips moved to a nonexistent rhythm. She danced like she was on the dance floor ready to kill it with her sweet moves. When she glanced over her shoulder, however, she noticed that King Gristle was _still_ fully engrossed in whatever it was he was writing. 

Stepping things up a bit might get his attention. 

Putting down her dusting cloth, Bridgette grabbed hold of the broom. Dipping it as though it was her dance partner, Bridgette once again moved to an unknown beat. Each sweep of her broom was accompanied with footwork and hip swinging movements designed to entice all those nearby. She was so into her dancing that she didn’t notice the door leading to the veranda opening once more.

When she turned around, she was greeted with Chef’s raised brow as the taller Bergen set a plate of food in front of the King.

“Thanks, Chef!” 

“It’s no problem at all,” Chef casually stated while still looking at Bridgette. Judging by the look on her face, Bridgette could see that the taller Bergen was, at best, confused about the current situation and, at worst, disappointed as a teacher noticing a student wasn’t paying attention would be. It was awkward to say the least and it made Bridgette internally scream at her own stupidity. 

After Chef had left the veranda, Bridgette followed her soon after. At how fast she left, the smaller Troll’s broom slightly hit the glass door, causing a slight clang from impact and furthering her embarrassment at the entire situation. 

“I knew this was a bad idea!” She whispered in distress as she made her way quickly through the halls. 

“No, no!” Poppy assured, “It was just—“

“—a complete disaster,” Branch finished for the pink princess. 

“Branch!”

“No, it’s true,” Bridgette agreed, on the verge of tears. “I’m nothing special. There’s no way he’ll ever notice me as anything more than his scullery maid.”

Poppy began to assure the small Bergen once more, while Branch was as unhelpful as always with his more pessimistic perspective on things. It wasn’t helping that Bridgette was beginning to cry from the chaos of it all, and Creek was on his last nerve at this point.

“Quiet!” The purple Troll demanded. Surpisingly enough, they all settled down at his outburst. Creek patted Bridgette’s head as he continued to sit upon it, “This isn’t helping us. How about you just put on your Walkman while we sort things out, okay?”

Bridgette sniffled in response, “Yeah, okay.”

As the dull tones of her music began once more, Bridgette’s sniffling slowly calmed down. She was once more just dusting along the halls, now more somber than before. 

“Great idea, Creek!” Poppy cried before running over to give the purple Troll a hug. Creek didn’t even try to fake his response this time, as he just stood there waiting for her to release him from her overbearing grasp. When she finally did pull away, she gave him a hurt expression.

But Creek wasn’t moved by it. 

“We came all the way here to rescue you, Poppy. Now we’re staying here to save all of Troll kind for years to come. Bickering and crowding the _one_ Bergen who’s on our side _isn’t_ helping things. We need her to get back to the King, that is, if the King’s even interested-!”

Suddenly Bridgette began to sing. 

_Say, say, say what you want_

_But don’t play games with my affection_

_Take, take, take, what you need_

_But don’t leave me with no direction_

It was obviously a song coming from her Walkman, so the Troll’s didn’t pay much mind as they continued their conversation.

“I’m just trying to cheer her up,” Poppy weakly defended. “Like you said, she's our way of getting through to the King.”

“Yes, but do you _have_ to be so insistent about your positivity? You’re practically giving her a complex by getting her hopes up so high just to have them crash down around her. What happened back there? How he ignored her? That was a very real possibility given how she really hasn’t had much interaction with the King before.”

Branch crossed his arms and looked to the Princess, “Told you.”

“And you--!” Creek began.

_All alone, I sit home by the phone_

_Waiting for you_

_Baby, baby_

_Through the years_

_How can you stand to hear my pleading for you dear?_

“—You were just so _depressing_. It’s no wonder why she started to cry!”

“I just trying to get her to understand that her chance with the King wasn’t exactly good to start with so it's no surprise that she was ignored _completely_.”

“She had a chance though! We want to be realistic here, not completely one way or the other. We can’t set her up too high, or too low. In one way, she may be hurt worse than ever, and the other, she won’t try at all! If we’re going to get her back out there to get the King’s atten—“

_You know I’m crying, Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_

_Yeah_

“Bridgette!”

A voice called the small female Bergen’s name. 

A _male_ voice. 

A fairly _familiar_ male voice. 

However, Bridgette wasn’t listening at that point. Too absorbed in her music, she continued to sing along with the tune in her ears.

_Now, go, go, go where you want_

_But don’t leave me_

_Here forever_.

_What can I do, to get through to you_

_Cause I love—_

And that’s when Bridgette felt a tap to her shoulder. Seeming to feel much better now, the smaller Bergen pulled one of her ear buds out before turning to address the one who touched her.

"--you"

The word died on her lips as her eyes fell upon the King. 

His cheeks were slightly flushed a different shade of green, his eyes were wide, and a dopey smile graced his face. 

Bridgette, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more mortified. 

She quickly jumped upon realizing who it was that had addressed her, fumbling to turn her Walkman off to properly address the ruler of Bergen Town.

“Oh, uh! I’m so sorry, sir. I, uh, I didn’t hear you. Oh man. I’m so, so, so sorry!” 

“ Oh, no! _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you or anything. It’s just, I noticed you leave the veranda, and I realized you must have been there the whole time and I didn’t see you. I didn’t want you to think that I was ignoring you, so I followed you back here, and… um… that’s when I heard you singing?” His face had broken out into a full blush by now and, he too, began fumbling with his words. 

He kicked an invisible stone on the ground before scratching the back of his neck, “I… I wanted to see if maybe you would like to... be my plus one to the Trollstice that’s coming up? I mean, you would have already been invited anyway because it’s for the whole town, but... um… if you want to, would you want to come as, maybe… my… date?” It was said so slowly and painfully awkwardly that Poppy had to repress an “aw” from atop Bridgette’s head.

Now it was Bridgette’s turn to blush, “I would like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! If… you still want me to.”

“Yes! Yes! Yeah, I do! You can sit right next to me during it.”

“That sounds really good.”

“Yeah.”

They stood there, still awkward, until King Gristle cleared his throat. 

“So… I guess I should go back to what I was doing. But…” he hummed in thought. “I can trust you,” it was said as a statement without a shred of doubt, “Would you want to hang out with me while I finish what I was doing?”

“Yeah!” Bridgette eagerly agreed, not knowing at all what was about to happen.

What _hanging out_ with King Gristle entailed was going back onto the veranda to look at what King Gristle was drawing up for the Trollstice celebration. The two Bergens talked, Bridgette gave some ideas with King Gristle nodding in approval, and then they were forced to go back inside once it became too dark for them to see what they were writing anymore. 

“So this is all for that Troll Chef brought in, right?” Bridgette stated as she and the King walked through the halls.

“Yeah, I can’t believe she actually managed to capture one. And she says that, after we cook Princess Poppy, she can easily find the other Trolls. We might be able to restart the Troll Tree again – only this time, security will be _intense_. Those Trolls will _never_ be able to escape again!”

Bridgette nervously laughed in agreement. 

“What if we… _don’t_ eat the Trolls though?”

King Gristle let out his own laugh, although this was far less nervous and more just pure hilarity. 

“That’s a good one!”

“Um… heh, yeah. Right?”

King Gristle gave her a smile, “We should have everything ready for the party the day after tomorrow. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.”

Bridgette looked to the King’s face as he stared off into space. She could see the hope in his eyes as he told her of his plans once more.

“And after everyone gets a taste of the soup, we’ll all be happy again.”

Bridgette just didn’t have the heart to say otherwise.

So instead, she just agreed.

“Yeah, that will be great.”

They said their goodbyes for the night and, as Bridgette marched her way back down to her bedroom to finish the mountain-high stack of dirty dishes, she ignored the complaining Trolls atop her head.

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

“You have to tell him before the celebration!”

By the end of it, the Trolls had worn themselves out and Bridgette had gone to bed. 

Except, when Creek awoke later that night, Bridgette was singing a song once more. 

_Standing here_

_Baptized in all my tears_

_Baby through the years_

_You know I’m crying_

_Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_

Her voice _was_ lovely. After being brought up on stories of how Bergen’s didn’t dance, hug, or sing, it’s amazing how well thing one sung as she sat on the cold stone floor, her eyes gazing at the wall of King Gristle pictures. 

Creek couldn’t help but intrude.

“You’re still singing that song, are you?”

She looked at him with her sad gaze, “Yeah, I guess so.”

The purple Troll didn’t say anything in response, simply choosing to sit next to the Bergen. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about Trollsice being wrong and stuff.”

Creek shrugged, “That would have been nice, but I understand what was going through your mind when you didn't say anything.”

“You do?” She asked in surprise.

“I know what it’s like to want to fit in in order to feel normal. You just got the attention of the _King_ himself. Why would you want to ruin that by asking to get rid of a celebration he’s really excited for?”

Bridgette sighed, “I know it’s wrong. I’m going to tell him the truth tomorrow.”

“That’s good.”

They sat there in silence for a bit, just listening to the noises above them as a stray guards wandered the halls of the castle above them, until Creek broke it with a sentence that had Bridgette practically jumping out of her skin, “He’s your soulmate, you know.”

“W-what?”

“The King. I saw it in his face when he heard you singing. He heard your voice, and I could immediately tell that he had found his soulmate. You’ll probably feel it too if he ever sings to you.”

“W-what are soulmates?”

Creek raised a brow before letting out a bitter laugh, “You really don’t know? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised given how utterly depressing Bergens are. You all are practically a species of _Branches_.” 

“Is that the grey Troll?”

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s about as much fun as a bucket of pine needles.”

“You're _both_ not really that fun to be around. After we’ve all been told of how all Trolls are happy all the time, dancing all the time, and signing all the time, I’m kinda surprised that you guys are so depressing.”

Creek scoffed, “You’d be depressed to if you had to worry about being eaten.”

“Poppy seems to still be pretty fun.”

“Well, Poppy hasn’t had to go through the things I’ve had to go through. I don’t know what Branch’s problem is, but I lost someone very important to me.”

“Your… soulmate?”

Creek sighed. It was a long, heartbroken sigh that sounded as though it had been held in for a long time. “Yes. That’s who it was.”

Bridgette looked down, “I’m sorry.”

The purple Troll couldn’t say anything like “it’s okay” or “I’m over it”, he wasn’t over it. He wasn’t okay. It still ached.

Bridgette spoke again, “What were they like?”

“I never got to find out. They died before I could find them.”

“Well how do you know they were your soulmate?”

“It’s a bit hard to describe, though I know I’ve had to describe it quite often to my Master back in Troll Village. It’s… you just _know_ when you hear them sing. Your heart fills with love and… you just know.”

“And you think the King feels this way for me?”

“I _know_ it. He heard you sing, and I think he knows it too now. You may have to let him in on exactly _what_ he knows though, considering Bergen's are completely ignorant about soulmates.”

Bridgette smiled. 

_You never ever worry_

_And you never shed a tear_

_You’re saying that my love ain’t real_

_Just look at my face, these tears ain’t drying_

“I didn’t know that Trolls knew that song too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I've been wanting to use this song since before chapter 1. After I got into the whole Creek/Branch pairing, I heard this song on the radio and was like "Dude, this works so well!" I had originally planned for Creek and Branch to sing this as a duet later on near the climax of the story, but then I was like, "Nah!" and decided it would work with Bridgette and Creek. Lol


	8. I Believe in a Thing Called Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want to let you all know that this story had been officially completed - not with this chapter - but the NEXT chapter will be the END chapter. I'm so excited! I really wanted to get this thing done before Christmas because, really, I've been working on it on/off since September and it needs to be finished already. It's been so fun working on this story though. It's going to be so weird not having to update it anymore! XD
> 
> Also, shout-out to Bluemoondreams - I had absolutely NO idea that Bridget's name was spelled B-r-i-d-g-e-t. I've been spelling it like B-r-i-d-g-e-t-t-e this entire time, and I'm so glad she let me know how it was properly spelled. I haven't done so yet, but I'll be going over previous chapters and correcting that mistake. Thank you! :)
> 
> Chapter Song: "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" by The Darkness

 

It was early in the morning – if you could even call it morning – when a tremendous clash of metal pots and pans hitting the stone floor of Bridget's room woke every occupant in a startled, heart-attack inducing, panic. Well, almost every occupant.

While the Trolls, rightfully so, awoke with yells of fear and terror, the young Bergen in bed with them simply stretched her limbs and let out a lazy yawn.

She wiped her sleepy eyes, “Is it morning already?”

And that was the start of day 2 in the Bergen castle.

-

The Trolls gathered together at the edge of the sink in Bridget's room, while the Bergen herself began to tackle the task of washing every single pot and pan that had just crashed onto her bedroom floor. The Bergen's background noise providing a weird ambiance to their discussion on just what they would do to get out of the harrowing situation they currently found themselves. 

“Okay," Branch began. "Here’s the plan: First, we use Bridgette’s bond with the King to convince him that Trollstice is a horrible idea. Then, we get the King to cancel Trollstice. And then, we get out of here and never think of this again.”

“That’s a very simplified plan,” Creek mused.

“And why would we want to forget about this? If we succeed, then we’ve just made about a million new friends in Bergen Town!" Poppy happily exclaimed. "Are you even _thinking_ of the parties we can throw afterward? Besides," she stated as she brushed off her shoulders, "I’m pretty sure _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to be coming up with plans.”

“She’s got a point, you know. What with her being queen and all,” Creek piped in.

Branch rolled his eyes, “Ugh. Fine what would you suggest we do first, your _majesty_?”

Poppy put her finger to her chin in thought. The sound of Bridget diligently scrubbing dirty dishes, a wonderful source of background noise for her musings. Creek looked to Branch as they waited for the Princess to come up with her brilliant plan, however he was surprised to find the grey Troll already looking at him with an odd expression. The purple Troll quirked a brow in question at the other’s actions but, to his surprise, Branch only responded by looking away. It was so pointed and fast of a motion that it just raised even more questions.

“I got it!” Poppy suddenly declared, her high-pitched yell causing Bridget to drop the dish she had been scrubbing.

“Sorry about that, Bridget! But, anyway, here’s the new plan: We totally need to get closer to King Gristle. We need to just go right up to him and tell him the truth about Trolls this time.” At this point, Poppy gave a glance to Bridget who shamefully looked back down at the dishes in the sink. “Once we get the King on our side, we’re pretty much all set for world peace.”

"Uh, great plan, Poppy" Creek stated, "But--"

“How is that _not_ a simplified plan?” Branch finished.

Ignoring his question, Princess Poppy continued, “Trollstice is tomorrow, so we really need to get our acts together today. Do you think you could get close to the King again today, Bridgette?”

Another load of dirty dishes crashed to the floor behind them, startling everyone in the room but the short Bergen who simply gave them a worried look.

“Chef’s probably going to have me cleaning dishes all day for Trollstice. If I don’t do it, she’ll get suspicious so I really don’t kno—”

A knock at the door cut the Bergen off.

“Hurry and hide!”

Princess Poppy quickly raced to get back in her cage. Branch and Creek, meanwhile, quickly took cover behind the load of dirty dishes.

Bridget let out a calming breath before wiping her soapy hands on her apron and heading for the door. Her steps were careful and she practically _radiated_ a nervous energy, but she gripped the handle and forced a smile to her face despite her anxiety.

What awaited her behind the door wasn’t what she expected.

“Hi, Bridget,” the King shyly said before coughing and leaning awkwardly against the door frame. “I mean, **‘hi, Bridget.’** ” He said in a much deeper voice.

Bridget’s face went red and her finger found it’s way to a strand of her hair, twirling it in embarrassment. “ **Hi, King Gristle** ,” she replied in a similarly deep voice.

Creek rolled with eyes with a fond smile.

They were _flirting_.

“I, um, wanted to see if you were doing anything today? I thought maybe we could hang out again…”

“Oh,” Bridgette spared the tall stack of dirty dishes a glance. “I kind of have a lot of chores to do today for the celebration, so I’m not sure if Chef would be too happy about me taking time off.”

King Gristle looked over the short Bergen’s shoulder to get a look at the sad ominous stack of disgustingly dirty dishes behind her. His eyes widened slightly and he let out a low whistle. “That’s—” he let out a nervous laugh, “—a lot of dishes.”

Bridgette laughed as well, “Yeah.”

“Maybe I could help you with them?”

The female Bergen froze. 

Her face was frozen in surprise for just a moment, making the King surprised too (as well as concerned for her well-being), before Bridget quickly came back to her senses. “Oh no! I couldn’t ask you to help. You’ve got to be really busy today too, and—I mean – you _are_ the _King_. You shouldn't have to wash dirty dishes like me!”

King Gristle scratched the back of his neck and let out another nervous laugh, “I actually don’t have anything else to do day. Kind of cleared my schedule for a while… and I really want to help if I can.”

“Really?”

“Well, _yeah_.”

The smile Bridget wore must have been as sweet as candy. Creek couldn’t see the smile from his spot behind a dirty plate, but he could _clearly_ see the expression on King Gristle’s face. The King practically melted from it.

“What is she thinking?” Creek heard Branch curse from beside him.

Creek gave the other a sly smile, “She’s getting close to the King like we wanted.”

It was a cute sight - seeing these two Bergen’s endlessly flirt with each other as they scrubbed dirty dishes side-by-side. It reminded Creek of what he wanted with his own soulmate – minus the dirty dishes part, of course. If he just closed his eyes, he could picture himself and his soulmate – a male, if the singing voice in his mind was anything to go by. He wondered what kind of Troll his soulmate would have grown in to, what they would have liked to do for fun, what they would have liked to do in a more... intimate sense.

His musing was stopped when he was slightly nudged.

“You’re humming. Stop it. We’re trying to hide, remember?”

He had been humming?

Creek gave Branch a concerned look, but the other Troll was already looking pointedly away from him. His eyes were drawn to a seemingly insignificant spot of rust on the dish they hid behind.

Before Creek could call him out on his behavior, a dish close by was moved from the pile – making dishes shift near them.

“Alright!" King Gristle stated in triumph as he held the removed dish aloft. "Once we get this pile done, you’re going to be done with chores for a while, right?”

“Heh, yeah," Bridget nervously replied. "But you shouldn’t have to pick up dishes from the floor. I can do that.”

“I don’t mind,” the King happily replied, and Creek heard even more dishes move.

_Crap._

“We have to move,” Branch stated.

Creek peered over a dish to get a look at where the male Bergen was within the pile. He was practically right on top of them!

“Oh wow. Look at this one, Bridgette. it’s got rust all over it!”

Oh _**crap**_!

The King’s hand was reaching right for their dish!

The King’s hand reached down toward them seemingly in slow motion. His fingers slowly curved over the rim of the pan…

“King Gristle!” Bridget’s voice called from the sink.

The King immediately stopped his motion toward the pan, reeling back to look at the female Bergen. “Yeah?”

“I, um, I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you helping me…”

This was their chance. Taking the opportunity Bridget had given them, Creek and Branch ran to hid hide under the female Bergen's bed.

The King smiled, “It’s no big deal.”

“It is though!” Bridgette confessed, her hands wringing together. “I’ve… never been offered any help before.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry I haven’t offered sooner. I just… I guess I didn’t realize how busy you’ve been all these years… doing all this stuff. By yourself.” Realization seemed to dawn on the King at his own words. “You’ve kept this place going all by yourself.”

“Oh, it’s not that hard!”

“Cleaning this whole castle all by yourself? Yeah, _right_ ,” the King replied sarcastically. “This place is always so clean, and you’ve always been the only maid here. I never really thought about that before. You’ve got to be the most amazing Bergen in all of Bergen Town!”

“Oh, no,” Bridgette blushed.

“It’s true!” The King

“No. _You’re_ amazing.”

“I…am?”

“Yes! You’re _King Gristle_. You’re kind, thoughtful, and you’re, like, the most rocking King Bergen Town has ever had!”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. I… I really like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too.”

They were getting closer.

They might even kiss!

Creek was practically on the edge of his seat as he watched them. Somehow, for some strange reason, he had become invested in this relationship. Even though it had only been going on for a miraculous _one_ day, it was developing as quickly as any other soulmate relationship would be.

Bridget’s eyes were completely on the King, but her gaze fell to Creek in a moment and she pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” King Gristle asked.

“I have to tell you something. It’s going to sound really weird and you might not like me after I tell you, but I really need to tell you something really important.”

King Gristle made a weird face as though weirded out already, “Uh, ok…”

Bridget bit her lip and looked to him with pleading eyes, “I’m going to need you to keep an open mind and hear us out.”

“…Us?”

It was at that moment that the female Bergen walked over to Princess Poppy’s cage, opening it up and letting the pink Princess walk onto her hand.

King Gristle let out a gasp, “What are you doing?!”

“Please listen!” Princess Poppy pleaded from Bridget’s hand.

But the King didn’t want to listen. He looked at the Troll with skeptical eyes and a deeply-set frown. “I don’t have to listen to anything you say. You’re going to be in a stew tomorrow!”

“King Gristle, please—”

“Have you been listening to her this whole time?" He asked Bridget, slightly hurt. "You know they’ll say anything to get out of being eaten.”

“She makes a lot of sense.”

“Like how?”

“She made me realize that I’m already happy.”

King Gristle scoffed, “How can you possibly be happy? No one’s eaten a troll in _twenty years_.”

“Exactly.” Bridgette approached the King to grab his hand. She looked deeply into his eyes, “ _You_ make me happy.”

“You…” King Gristle looked like he wanted to argue. Like he already knew everything there was to know about Trolls and how they can trick Bergen’s into believing anything to make it easier for the Troll to escape, but he couldn’t speak for a moment. He finally looked into Bridget's awaiting gaze. She was hard working, nice, and he had known her for his entire life. He knew he could trust her.

And then she began to sing.

 

_Can’t explain all the feelings that you’re making me feel_

_My heart’s in overdrive and you’re behind the steering wheel_

 

Bridgette leaned down to let Poppy down on the ground before reaching out to King Gristle’s hand and threading their fingers together.

 

_Touching you, touching me_

 

She squeezed his hand and gave him a smile.

 

_Touching you, Gosh you’re touching me_

He smiled back.

_I believe in a thing called love_

_Just listen to the rhythm of my heart_

_There’s a chance we could make it now_

_We’ll be rocking ‘til the sun goes down_

_I believe in a thing called love_

_Ooh!_

While Bridgette and King Gristle were having their moment, Poppy took the opportunity to walk over to where Creek and Branch hid under the bed. She urged them to come out, but when they did nothing in response, the pink Princess grabbed Creek’s hand and pulled him with her to the stack of pots and pans.

_I want to kiss you every minute, every hour, every day_

Creek’s eyes looked to Branch, but the grey Troll’s gaze was focused on the two Bergens instead.

_You got me in a spin but everything is A.OK!_

Poppy pulled Creek’s attention back to her as she motioned for the purple Troll to bang on the dishes in tune with the song while she hummed a background rhythm. All the while, the pink Troll was a bit too touchy feely for Creek’s tastes, putting one arm around him and leaning in too close for comfort.

_Touching you, touching me_

_Touching you, Gosh you’re touching me_

King Gristle then began to sing instead of Bridget, and Creek was immediately drawn to the sight. He wanted to witness first-hand the change in Bridget when she heard her soulmate’s song for the first time.

_I believe in a thing called love_

_Just listen to the rhythm of my heart_

_There’s a chance we could make it now_

_We’ll be rocking ‘til the sun goes down_

_I believe in a thing called love_

_Ooh!_

It was a subtle twinkling in her eyes, but overall nothing really changed in Bridget when she listened to King Gristle sing. She certainly looked happy though as the King spun her around. And she returned the favor soon after, dipping him and laughing. Suddenly there was an added sound of dishes being hit in time to the song behind him. The extra noise really made it all come together very nicely, but Poppy was still next to Creek. If the pink Troll wasn’t the one making the noise, then it must be…

 

 

_Touching you, touching me_

_Touching you, Gosh you’re touching me_

Bridgette and King Gristle, at this point, were singing in time with one another to the rhythm of the dishes being hit behind them. They were so engrossed with each other – holding hands, grinning practically from ear-to-ear, and dancing that Creek doubted they were even aware of anyone else’s presence. They were in an entirely different world, and Creek was beginning to drift off into his own when his eyes finally fell upon the grey Troll behind him.

He was so focused on Branch that he didn’t notice Poppy leaving his side with a slight disheartened look.

 

_I believe in a thing called love_

_Just listen to the rhythm of my heart_

_There’s a chance we could make it now_

_We’ll be rocking ‘til the sun goes down_

_I believe in a thing called love_

_Ooh!_

 

The song ended with a flurry of hits to dirty dishes and humming. Branch, engrossed in his task of hitting the pan in front of him to a beat, only looked up to Creek when he was finished. 

And then he actually gave Creek a _smile_. 

“You’re right,” King Gristle’s dreamy sigh broke through the moment. “You make me happy too.”

 Bridget grinned, “And you’ve never eaten a Troll before. So they couldn’t have caused that feeling!”

“You’re right!” The King exclaimed in realization. “We’ve got to stop Trollstice!” He looked down at the dirty dishes on the floor, just know realizing that there were two more Trolls in the room with them. “And you guys were here too? Thanks for the backup.”

-

Bridget, King Gristle, Branch, Creek, and Poppy found themselves peering into the busy kitchen area of the Troll castle.

All the cooking staff were up and about as though they didn’t even know the meaning of the word lazy – a far cry from how they had been before Chef returned for duty. It was amazing to the King to see such a difference in the normally indifferent staff of his castle. Even Chef herself looked to be genuinely happy about the whole situation.

“So how are we going to do this?” Bridget asked in a hushed tone of voice.

“What do you mean? King Gristle is the _King_ , now that we've got him on-board, he can just walk right in there and tell everyone that Trollsitce is cancelled,” Poppy stated.

King Gristle frowned slightly, “It's not really that easy. I really need to let everyone down… _gently_. It’s been hard here since all the Trolls left, and me cancelling the _only_ celebration in practically _forever_ probably won’t go over well with everyone. We need a way to get everyone on the same page as us to make them all realize that they don’t _need_ to eat Trolls anymore.”

“How can we do that?” Bridget pondered.

Poppy jumped up immediately, “Dancing, singing, glitter, bright lights, lazers - we can _totally_ make this place party central! That’ll for _sure_ get everyone happy!”

“We don’t really have any decorations like that in Bergen Town,” King Gristle stated.

“We can get some from Troll Village!”

“ _Yeah!_ ” Branch exclaimed with  sarcastic enthusiasm, “All we have to do is run all the way back to Troll Village, gather up all the supplies we need, carry all those supplies back to the castle in Bergen Town without being seen, set everything up, and then have a huge party all before tomorrow evening!”

“No need to be so pessimistic, Branch.”

“Oh yeah,” Branch rolled his eyes and scoffed. “And what are we going to do if Chef wants to check in to see if you’re still in your cage?”

“I can stay behind and cover for her,” Creek's voice interrupted.

“You?” Branch asked in startled disbelief.

“Yes,” Creek cleared his throat. “I’m sure Chef won’t notice the difference. After all, we are just ingredients to her.”

“Uh, Chef kinda brought back Poppy specifically for me, so I'm pretty sure she'll be able to tell that you're not her,” King Gristle chipped in.

Creek shrugged his shoulders. He was obviously nervous about what he was proposing, but there was conviction behind his each of his words that spoke volumes of his dedication to his plan, “Well it’s kind of our only option at this point. Poppy is our _queen_ , so the rest of the Trolls will listen to her when she asks for help, and Branch knows everything there is to know about all the scary and horrible things that can kill us in the forest.” He looked to Branch, “He can get Poppy back to the Village safely.”

“That still doesn’t account for the time it would take to get there,” the grey Troll chided.

Creek smiled, “I have faith in you.”

Branch was silent for a long moment, his face in disbelief, before giving Creek a stern nod in affirmation. “Okay then.”

Creek gave both Poppy and Branch the coolest, calmest smile he could muster even as he felt his innards tangle in knots as they were lifted into King Gristle’s pocket. It was decided that the two Trolls would leave to get help and decorations, and that the best way to begin their trek back to Troll Village would be through the old tunnel system by the Troll Tree. It was the safest way to travel through Bergen Town, and would assuredly save them a considerable amount of time on their journey.

Poppy gave Creek a sad smile as she leaned out of the Bergen’s pocket, “Be safe, okay, Creek?”

“Right back at you, Poppy. Though I’m sure with all the paranoid tendencies of our good friend Branch guiding you, you will be begging for some danger with how boring your trip will be.”

Poppy half-heartedly giggled at the joke before lowering herself farther into King Gristle's pocket.

Branch gave Creek the same odd look that he had given him earlier. Now that Creek paid closer attention, it looked almost… fond.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be back before Trollstice tomorrow,” the grey Troll stated.

Creek winked at him, “I’m not worried at all. I know you’ll miss me too much to stay away for too long.”

And then they were gone.


	9. Can't Stop the Feeling!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, everybody! The end of the story. 
> 
> Chapter Song: "Can't Stop the Feeling!" by Justin Timberlake

The next day arrived sooner than Creek would have liked.  

Everyone who knew about Creek's situation was on edge that day - the day the new Trollstice was planned to begin. Bridget worked herself to the bone getting all of Chef’s chores done in preparation, while King Gristle did his best to keep up with his Kingly duties for the occasion. Creek… well, Creek was stuck waiting around Bridget’s bedroom in a dirty old cage meant for birds.

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Creek could hear the growing noise of Bergens entering the castle in droves. He hadn't seen much of Bridget or King Gristle that day, and there was still no sign of any kind of Troll rescue brigade.

Things could have been going better for him, to say the least.

All the time Creek had spent alone in the cage had given him plenty of time to think however.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t surrounded by a village full of Trolls, nor did he have Branch around to confuse his feelings.

It was just Creek in a cage.

Alone.

_And still thinking about Branch of all Trolls! Argh! Could things **be** any more terrible?!_

Creek let out an aggravated sigh into the empty room – just one of the many he had been breathing out after Poppy and Branch had left.

They would be fine.

He hadn't been lying when he told Branch that he trusted him. The grey Troll was paranoid, for sure, but in this instance, that was a _good_ trait to have. Not like the other Troll’s paranoia had really bothered Creek before. He actually found it very refreshing in a village comprised mostly of happy-go-lucky Trolls who ignorantly assumed that they would never again be discovered by the Bergens. It was always Branch - gloomy, grey, no-fun Branch that was always looking out for everyone. It was as if the grey Troll knew the pain of losing someone to the Bergens similarly to how Creek had. And, even in a village comprised of Trolls who had lost family and friends to the Troll Tree, it was as though only the two of them remembered the pain. They were the only ones who hadn't forgotten and, therefore, weren't able to enjoy themselves like the other Trolls were able to.  

At least, not without each other.

Creek could finally admit to himself that going to Branch's house had become routine for him through the years. Although he was unable to have genuine fun with other Trolls, Branch was special. He liked to get Branch out of that serious mood he had set himself into. Seeing Branch become flustered – angry, embarrassed, annoyed – it was all good fun for Creek. Branch was fun to be around. 

Creek enjoyed that routine.

Although, as he thought more about it, it was odd that Branch had never stopped him from being around so often. The grey Troll had this high-tech underground bunker that could keep out even the most observant of Bergens, but he always came to the surface whenever Creek knocked.

Creek let out a groan as he stretched his back, the action quieting his thoughts of the other Troll for a moment.

Leaning up against the side of the cage was beginning to make his back sore, Creek mused. It was one of the few distractions he had from thinking about his current situation and... Branch. There he goes again, thinking about him.

**_SLAM!_ **

Creek’s heart practically leapt from his chest at the sound of Bridget’s bedroom door slamming open. His wide eyes quickly came upon the shadowy form in the doorway.

Too tall to be either Bridget or King Gristle

“ _Hello there_.”

_Chef_.

-

Creek was taken to the kitchen. It was in it’s usual hectic state from what Creek could tell – with cooking staff running around and whatnot. Except, this time, there was food everywhere. Piled high on counter-tops, cooking in pots and pans, being laid out and decorated on plates, there was just… _a lot_ of food.

“Right this way!” Chef teased as she lifted the cage. The tall Bergen opened the door just as she tilted the cage over a large yellow pot, forcing Creek to fall into it. Chef grinned as she _glanced_ down at the _purple_ Troll with disguised _pink_ hair. Thankfully, Creek noted, she hadn't recognized that he wasn't Princess Poppy. Her mind seemed elsewhere, as she really only spared him a look to ensure that he had fallen inside before browsing over the rest of the kitchen.

"Roger, you better be sauteing those mushrooms by now, or so help me-!" Chef yelled to a Bergen across the room. She didn't even look at Creek when she told him, in a commanding tone similar to one a teacher would use on a misbehaving student,  “Now you wait there. I’ll be back in a few minutes."

With that said, Chef placed a lit onto the pot, effectively cutting off all sources of light and leaving Creek in complete and total darkness.

_"Great!"_  Creek sarcastically exclaimed to himself. "Alone, but _this_ time I can't even see anything!" 

It dawned on him that this very well could have been how his soulmate had died. Thrown into a pot by a Bergen who was distracted enough that they didn't even _look_ at the Troll they were about to cook. Creek didn’t have to imagine the fear that his soulmate endured all those years ago before being cooked alive. He could feel it well inside his stomach, but there was another emotion - _guilt_ , that consumed him. His hands grazed against the sides of the pot. Had his soulmate done the same thing when they were here? Creek didn't want to die, even if the act would unite the two of them. He wanted to live. He wanted to go back to Troll Village and visit Branch every day like he had before. Only this time, Creek believed that he would like to try making Branch happy. He'd seen the other Troll smile at him a few times during this whole adventure of theirs, but he... he wanted to see more. A smile, a laugh, maybe a combination of the two given throughout the course of their lives? Yes. That's what he wanted - to spend his entire life with the other Troll. To make him happy. 

Because he was in love. 

The revelation was slow to come but Creek knew that the love he felt for Branch had been slowly growing throughout the majority of his life. An emotion as strong as love didn't form from the time he had spent with Branch in the presence of Bergens. It had been there since the very moment they met in school. A magnetic force drew Creek to Branch, and he could finally admit to himself that he actually... loved the other. 

Finally admitting the emotion to himself also filled Creek with a sense of guilt that made this whole situation feel fitting. Why should he get to live and love again when his soulmate hadn't been given the chance to? Creek betrayed his soulmate by falling in love with another Troll, the least he could do now was die the same way his soulmate had.

Maybe soulmates were _destined_ to die the same way?

A sudden jerk of motion caught him off guard, interrupting his thoughts and sending him back against the edge of the pot.

He could feel himself being moved a fair bit of distance away from the kitchen. The sound of pots, pans, and dishes clattering together, and Bergens chattering among each other slowly faded. The pot was rolled out of the kitchen and into the hall. They were moving, turning at corners, until Creek finally felt them come to a stop. Was he in front of a thousand hungry Bergens?

He heard someone grasp the lid.

And he couldn’t help but close his eyes in preparation for the boiling hot broth that was surely about to be poured upon him.

Except it never came.

“Creek!”

The purple Troll looked up in relief at the sight of a familiar grey face. Branch, that amazing, fantastic, Troll clung to the side of the pot above him, giving him a thumbs up because –

He was here.

He made it.

Creek smiled and let out a laugh.

“Well, you were not late, but you sure did take your time!”

A Bergen's hand was lowered into the pot, urging Creek to step onto it which he gladly did.

Maybe he could be happy after all.

“What is the meaning of this!”

When Creek was raised out of the pot, the first thing he noticed was Chef's enraged face glaring daggers at the Bergen holding him. The ladle in that Chef held aloft, aimed accusingly at them, looked as intimating as a sword given the current situation.

Creek looked to see who had picked him up. Bridget, in her regular scullery maid outfit, focused on Chef with a gaze that was nervous but firm. Beside her, King Gristle held onto her other hand, his own gaze set upon Chef as well. The pair stood together in front of the pot, facing off against Chef in front of the entirety of Bergen Town.

So he'd at least been right about being put in front of a thousand hungry Bergens. _Fantastic_.

“We don't have to eat Trolls, Chef,” the King stated. “They don’t bring Bergens any more happiness than anything else we do. They never really have.”

Surprised gasps and whispers filled the dining hall.

_"No way that's true!"_

_“ **Is** that true?”_

_“I never really noticed, to be honest.”_

_“I always just kind of liked how special it was.”_

_"Are we just destined to be unhappy forever!?"_

_"Eating Trolls always made **me** happy..."_

_“He can’t be serious!”_

“I **am** serious,” the King spoke with a voice of authority. “And I have proof!”

Creek’s eyes widened when a giant disco ball suddenly lowered down from the ceiling.

Dear lord.

The lights to the room were dimmed before a colorful array of spotlights took their place. Hitting the disco ball, the lights painted the room in a rainbow of colors – each one dancing across the walls, ceiling, and floor. The Bergens gaped in awe at the spectacle, some already showing signs of smiling at the sight. And, when a slow beat began to play, their bodies began to unconsciously move.

 

_I got this feeling inside my bones_

_It goes electric wavy when I turn it on_

_All through my city, all through my home_

_We’re flyin’ up, no ceilin’, when we in our zone._

Creek’s heart filled with a love he knew very well. He looked next to him to see Branch holding a hand out towards him, his face smiling and relaxed as he sung the words to the song.

Creek couldn’t help but grab it and sing along.

 

_I got that sunshine in my pocket_

_Got that good soul in my feet_

_I feel that hot blood in my body when it drops (ooh)_

_I can’t take my eyes up off it, movin’ so phenomenally_

_Room, on lock, the way we rock it, so don’t stop_

 

They were dancing and singing in tune with each other while a flurry of their fellow Trolls sprung out from behind a chandelier, cascading down from the ceiling in a motion of colors, glitter, streamers, and instruments. All of them contributed to the song, even the Bergens began to sing with their own, deeper voices.

It was a heck of a good time.

When the song was all said and done, everyone, both Bergens and Trolls, looked to Chef. Creek had been so caught up in the festivities that he hadn’t paid much attention to her during the song. She looked as though she hadn’t moved from her spot the entire time, her face still set in a deep frown.

She looked at those around her, “Was that supposed to move me?” her deep voice pierced through the happy atmosphere. Bergens near her began to straighten up their act, their laughs dying in an awkward manner and smiles fading quickly from their faces.

Princess Poppy, who glided over to Chef's table with the grace of a butterfly, simply gave the Bergen a smile, “Maybe not. But how about you try something we brought for the party?”

Chef startled at the response, obviously confused when Bridget reached into her hair and pulled out a small pot of stew. It was no bigger than the tip of Chef's thumb, but the skeptical Bergen eyed it as though the princess had just set a dagger in front of her.

“It’s poisoned, isn’t it?”

Poppy laughed, “No way! Here, see?” she then scooped up a bit of the mixture with a spoon taken from her dress pocket and took a generous sip. Her eyes rolled as she made a noise of absolute bliss before looking expectantly back at Chef.

“Come on, Chef, what could it hurt?” King Gristle asked.

Chef still didn’t look overly convinced, so Creek took it upon himself to add a bit of peer pressure to the situation.

He pumped his fist into the air, looking around at the Trolls and Bergens in the room as he chanted, “ _Chef! Chef! Chef!_ ”

Branch was the first to join in, and soon enough they were followed by the rest of the room. 

“Alright already!” Chef yelled to the noisy crowd, effectively silencing them. A moment of suspense filled the air as everyone waited for Chef to take a sip. She picked up the Troll's pot of stew effortlessly and eyed it, sniffed it, and then gave Poppy a suspicious look (as thought the pink Troll would drop dead from poison at any moment) before taking a small sip. Being a Bergen, and therefore _a lot_ bigger than any Troll, Chef's small sip pretty much just consumed the entirety of the stew. The female Bergen swished the concoction in her mouth as though it were a fine wine, before swallowing it in a single, conclusive, gulp.

Her head lowered, her eyes looking to the floor as though she were contemplating exactly what she thought of the stew. Bergens and Trolls alike tilted their heads to try to read her expression, but before they knew it, Chef raised her head back up, tilted it back, and let out a loud belly laugh. It wasn’t bitter or even sarcastic. It was a genuine, _happy_ , full-on laugh.

“That was the best stew I’ve ever tasted!”

 Her laugh was followed with tremendous sighs of relief from the crowd.

“What in the world did you put in that stew? I just _have_ to know the recipe!” She exclaimed to the little pink Troll before her. As though Chef's entire personality had changed into that of a bubbly teenager gossiping about the latest trends, the female Bergen's previously intimidating behavior melted away before the room’s eyes.

Poppy grinned, “It’s an old Troll recipe. I’d be glad to share it with you! We have a like _ton_ more if you’d like to get together and cook some time.”

“I would absolutely _love_ that!”

“Does this make you… _happy_ , Chef?” King Gristle teased.

The taller Bergen laughed again, much more resigned as though she just had an epiphany. “Yes… It really does. I guess... I've always loved to cook. Maybe what I cook doesn't have to be Trolls in order to make me happy after all." She looked down at Princess Poppy with a sorrowful expression, "I'm so sorry."

Princess Poppy stuck out her hand, "I've already gone over it with the King, but I'd like for us to come to an understanding too. How about you agree to never cook another Troll, and _I_ agree that we can totally swap recipes and cook other things together?"

Chef smiled a genuine smile at that, "I would like that."

The party began again, with Chef joining in on the dancing this time. With the tense atmosphere completely lifted, Creek realized that he was now safe in the company of these Bergens. They ate the food piled high on the table before them, not sparing a single Troll a hungry look as they joined in on the festivities. The princess' plan had worked.

Creek felt his arm being pulled and looked over to see Branch gesturing toward a cracked doorway. Judging by the darkness on the other side, Creek could only assume that it led outside. The purple Troll smiled at Branch and trailed along behind him until they were out in the quiet night air.

“Sooo,” Creek drawled, his eyes gazing up at the night sky. He felt butterflies in his stomach, a far cry from the guilt he had felt earlier. “Do you happen to know what I know?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm," Creek hummed, looking at Branch to see the other looking down at his own feet. “You don't sound very surprised.”

Branch bit his lip, “I... heard you singing with Bridget. You were right, you know... once you hear your soulmate sing, you just..." he looked up at Creek, "Know it's them." He then let out a bit of a bitter laugh, "I was… _surprised_ , but I guess it makes sense.”

“How so?”

 “I’ve always liked you," Branch confessed. "You were annoying, and aggravating, and I wanted to punch you in the face _a lot_ , but you were always _there_. When everyone else forgot about me when I moved out of Troll Village, you were the only one to visit me. I didn't think I had a soulmate because I didn't think that I _deserved_ one after what happened to my grandma. Finding out that it was you… it made me feel…”

“Feeeeeel?” Creek drawled teasingly.

“Happy,” Branch bemusedly sighed.

Creek smiled, "You make me happy too. You have no idea how relieved I was when you started to sing."

“I was kind of hoping so.”

“But… how are you not dead? I saw my soulmate being carted off by Chef when we lived in the Troll Tree... Your... grandmother?”

Branch sighed, "Yeah. It was my singing that..."

 Silence for a moment before Creek put his hand on the other Trolls shoulder, “It wasn't your singing. Every Troll sings because it's how we make ourselves happy in some respect. Your singing would have led me to find you earlier had Chef not interfered. After... Chef did what she did, I decided that no one should hear my singing because my soulmate hadn't. You stopped singing because of what happened to your grandmother, but would your grandmother really have wanted you to live the rest of your life without singing?"

"Would your soulmate _really_ have wanted you to stop singing?"

Creek chuckled, "If we both hadn't been so stubborn, we could have found each other years ago." He then held out his hand to the grey Troll, “It's a bit sudden, but... would you like to come with me to this big party the Trolls and Bergens are having tonight? It's not as big of an event as the crowning of our queen but, you know I've found myself without a date for it? I think I'd stand out if I didn't have one.”

Branch began to laugh to his fullest, grabbing Creek’s hand. The moment their fingers touched, the greyness of Branch’s skin dissolved from the tips of his fingers to the rest of his body into that of a royal blue. They both looked, surprised at Branch’s change, but the now-blue Troll just laughed again, “I guess I’m looking good enough for the party. I might as well go."

And then they entered back into the fray, hand-in-hand and ready to begin a new era of peace and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who commented, gave kudos, or just read this story. It's been super fun writing this, and every time I got kudos or a comment, it just made my day. I want you all to know that I've read every single comment, and I appreciate you all so much. You all gave me the encouragement to finish this story and I can't thank you enough for that. There are few people who commented more than once that I really want to point out because they were so consistent with giving me feedback and encouraging me to write more. These peeps are: OminousO7, Reptilian, eltigre221, Bluemoondreams, ChibiKame, Natsu, arcaneScribbler, Tealbull81, PenWoman, and Kino_Hayashi. You all are the absolute best! Also, Kino_Hayashi, I just want to point out that your comments especially, were just fantastic. I'm not sure if you've been getting my replies so I wanted to let you know here that your comments were especially appreciated because of how detailed they were. You gave me an awesome insight into how you responded to events within the story, and that was just so enjoyable for me to read. Thank you. 
> 
> Okay, my end note is getting a bit too long and sappy. Time to wrap things up (get it? Because Christmas is coming?) XD
> 
> Doesn't 9 sound like a really awful number to end on? A bonus chapter may be in the future. ;D


End file.
